


Watch Me With Your Third Eye Open

by rockstarclairvoyant



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Bisexual Wisdom From Mr. Oowada, Colliding Friend Circles, Coping, Developing Friendships, Domestic, Dreams, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Grocery Shopping, Hiro and Ibuki Being Best Friends Because I Said So, Internalized Biphobia, Jealousy, Leon Kuwata's Tiddies, M/M, Marijuana, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Rare Pairings, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Confusion, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25300570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockstarclairvoyant/pseuds/rockstarclairvoyant
Summary: Yasuhiro Hagakure is finally satisfied now that he has a stable group of friends. He's a college senior, he's working slowly but steadily through his classes. He spends his time doing schoolwork and tarot spreads and for the first time in a while, he's got people to hang out with who genuinely care for him. He dresses comfortably, he takes care of himself. Things are right.Leon Kuwata is a shock of orange hair, faux leather and facial piercings. Sometimes, he hurts to look at because of all the light reflecting off the metal. Their friendship seems so unlikely and yet so set in the stars, and Hiro is captivated.
Relationships: Hagakure Yasuhiro & Fukawa Toko, Hagakure Yasuhiro & Ikusaba Mukuro, Hagakure Yasuhiro & Mioda Ibuki, Hagakure Yasuhiro/Kuwata Leon, Kuwata Leon & Fukawa Toko, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 174





	1. Comfort in the Mundane

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work in progress that i'll be updating as much as i can to finally have a fic project going. this mf is gonna be long.  
> tags will be added as scenes and characters are, rating may change.
> 
> there are going to be so many unlikely friendships in this work B)
> 
> currently rated T for language, drinking and recreational smoking.

They all met in college. Yasuhiro was surprised when the group of friends he’d accumulated still wanted to hang out with him after their first year. He’d been held back for several years during high school, so keeping in contact with people he knew wasn’t familiar. He guessed that’s why he liked all of these friends so much. Sure, they all had their quirks, but who didn’t? There was always something good to balance whatever issue they had. Makoto Naegi was a doormat, but he was compassionate and attentive. Toko Fukawa was judgemental as all hell, but she was talented and incredibly loyal. Mukuro Ikusaba was defensive and often cold, but everyone understood that she was conditioned to be, and were willing to help her heal, which she never stopped thanking them for. She was grateful, and they were grateful for her, et cetera, et cetera. Yasuhiro loved them, all fourteen of them.  
But of course, like most people, he had a little bit of a favoritism problem. The object of this bias was currently sitting on the floor playing a rather loud PVP game on Hiro’s Xbox and shotgunning energy drinks.  
Leon Kuwata is a shock of orange hair, faux leather and facial piercings. Sometimes, he hurts to look at because of all the light reflecting off the metal, and Yasuhiro fucking loves it. Leon has a fiery temper (demonstrated by him throwing a Red Bull can across the room in his defeat) and a craving for adrenaline, which Hiro likes to think balances his mellower personality and laziness perfectly. The two of them are content to spend their days watching shitty thriller movies on Hiro’s couch, eating the clairvoyant’s cooking or some cheap takeout— which happens quite frequently, meaning Leon has accumulated his own laundry pile, toiletries and blankets in Hiro’s apartment. They know each other's routines, are happy to help one another when asked, and have become pretty much inseparable since their second-to-last year of university.  
Leon turns to him and speaks, interrupting his little daydream.  
“Yo, Hiro. Come ‘n be player two.”  
The redhead extends the second controller to his friend, who had been absent-mindedly shuffling tarot cards in the armchair on the other side of the room. Hiro stands and takes it, moving the tower of cans that have been accumulating on the floor around Leon to sit cross-legged next to him.  
“Is this one ‘a mine or yours?”, he inquires, trying to get a hang of the controls.  
“The game? I brought it from my place,” Leon responds distractedly, turning off Friendly Fire. “But you can borrow it if ya wanna.”  
He doesn’t particularly wanna, but hums in agreement nonetheless. The game’s hard. Leon’s pretty decent at it, but Hiro’s always been dogshit at competitive games. He tries anyway, but it doesn’t help much. Leon complains jokingly about how much of a ‘fake gamer’ he is, earning a light punch on the shoulder. They play for a little longer, Hiro trailing his friend and not helping their team’s score at all. He knows Leon enjoys it anyways.

It’s become a tradition of cooking together when Leon’s over. They’re both too tired and too lazy to go buy groceries, so Hiro pulls some stock food out of the freezer. Leon cuts up vegetables as Hiro boils water, and they talk and talk and talk until the food is on their plates.  
Dinner’s always fast. They both have subpar table manners, but it doesn’t bother anyone unless they’ve got company. Company other than Leon, that is, but Hiro’s begun to consider Leon as more of a roommate than a guest.  
Due to this familiarity, Hiro found absolutely no disruption in his schedule when Leon slept over. It was regular at this point, to the extent that Leon often didn’t ask before crashing there. The answer was always, and would hopefully always be, yes.  
Leon hated to admit it, but he didn’t quite like being alone, especially in the apartment he owned with a particularly prickly roommate, whom Hiro unfortunately had the displeasure of meeting.  
Leon’s baseball career didn’t get him as far as he’d liked. He’d made it through all his years of schooling just fine, paying tuition with his impressive sports scholarships— but not enough to buy him the snazzy city apartment he’d fantasized about since his freshman year. Hiro’s apartment was earth-toned and warm, and despite not being the glamorous penthouse of Leon’s superstar dreams, it seemed to bring him comfort. It was kind of an escape from the dimly-lit concrete walls of Leon’s less-than-satisfactory lodging. Hiro’s place always smelled nice as well, whether it was the incense he burned, or the spiced cologne he wore, a trace of sage or marijuana smoke, or an apple crumble in the oven. Hiro’s apartment was full of life, and not just from the house plants balanced on every surface.  
When Leon and Hiro met, their friendship wasn’t as instantaneous as say… Leon and Naegi’s. It took quite a bit of talking, a few stoned ponderings and several 3-am order-in dinners before they truly became close. Even now, despite what Hiro liked to think, there was still a bit of a wall between them. They got along great, had some common interests, and loved to spend time together, but even when Leon was blazed out of his mind it seemed that he had put up a barrier of sorts. Hiro guessed he could understand it, it’s not out of the ordinary to be a bit tentative with new friendships. He just hoped Leon knew that he understood, or at least had the patience to eventually do so.

Hiro did like the rhythm they fell into, though. Leon would come over (sometimes unannounced), complain for a few minutes, and then plunk himself down next to wherever Hiro was sitting and just… watch. The silence that it left was never uncomfortable, just warm peace as the baseball player quietly observed. He was also good about helping. Hiro could be struggling with dinner, and Leon would help. Maybe Hiro had let the apartment get messy— Leon would help tidy it. Even if Hiro was having trouble with an assignment that Leon didn’t even understand, two small brains was better than one small brain. He also always brought things to Hiro that he liked— It could be a new drink he found, or a new song. Hiro didn’t have to particularly share the same tastes (though they did match up pretty frequently), Leon just wanted to show him anyway.  
The clairvoyant had heard people talk about love languages before— and while thinking Leon loved him might be a little much, it did seem like helping and sharing was how he expressed his appreciation for people.  
Hiro considered his love language to be very verbal, and smothering Leon with praise and nicknames was all he could do to try and repay the other for his support. Leon used to hate nicknames, actually, but Hiro liked to think he had a part in changing that. He could throw a ‘Kuwata-chi’ or a ‘Leo-chi’ at Leon any time and he’d generally accept it without complaint.

They finish dinner quickly despite talking the whole time. Leon, like he usually does, helps clean up the dishes after they eat. As Hiro scrubs the last plate, Leon wanders back into the main room to settle on the edge of the bed, scrolling through a social media feed of some kind. Hiro can hear mumbling as the baseball player talks to himself, which isn’t out of the norm. He says he’s practicing winning arguments.  
When all’s tidied, they settle on the couch. They don’t talk for a while. Hiro actually really enjoys this— spending time to yourself while in the presence of others. They don’t have to interact, just… exist in the same space. ‘Conversation happens when everyone wants it to,’ Hiro had stated hazily during one particularly deep-diving smoke session.  
The clairvoyant gets ready for bed before his friend does, settling himself under his sheets to scroll mindlessly through his assignments far before Leon even thinks about sleeping. An hour or so passes, and Hiro closes his laptop defeatedly. The redhead’s just now starting to yawn, and stands to kick off his jeans, throwing them and his discarded t-shirt to the corner of the room. Hiro absent-mindedly watches Leon wrestle with a mess of blankets for a few minutes before the latter collapses defeatedly to the couch tucked beneath the fabric.  
“Turn out th’ light whenever ya wanna, man,” Leon murmurs, which Hiro knows is code for ‘turn out the lights now please’. So he does.


	2. Expanding the Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon's off to class for the day, and Hiro's got nothing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for consumption of alcohol in this chapter. both characters are above the legal drinking age.

Neither of them are morning people. They tend to work through their exhaustion over breakfast, sprinkling in light conversation.  
“What’re you doing today?” Leon asks through a mouthful of toast.  
Hiro shrugs. “I don’t have work or class today so I dunno. Probably doin’ nothing.”  
He works at a local record store as a cashier most days in the week, and despite his attitude about academics, is a pretty good student, which leaves far less time in his schedule than you’d assume (due to his generally lax demeanor).  
Leon nods appreciatively, chewing his food and immediately replacing it with another bite. “I got stuff all day today, man. Shame we don’t really have anythin’ together, huh?”  
It is a shame, yeah.  
Hiro waves Leon off when he leaves to return to his own apartment. Leon has a habit of thanking him profusely whenever he stays over, and Hiro always has to remind him that it’s no big deal, and that his presence is always welcome, but gets showered in rushed ‘thank yous’ nonetheless as Leon rushes out the door. He feels like a housewife with a busy, working husband. He laughs at that.

Hiro works at his desk for a while, getting a head-start on homework, until his ringtone sounds from somewhere in the room. He searches everywhere before finding his reliable, yet cracked cell phone under his pillow, and clumsily picks up. Aoi Asahina’s voice sounds from the receiver.  
“Yasuhiro! Okay, listen.”  
“I’m listening.”  
“Great. Okay. Okay. You know whose birthday it is soon, right?”  
Hiro shakes his head like Aoi can see or something.  
“Oops. Uh, no.”  
“Sakura Oogami, Hiro. My girlfriend? Your friend?”  
This feels like it was a trap.  
“Ah, right. The strongwoman. Lovely lady.”  
He can practically hear Aoi rolling her eyes.  
“September 13th, asshole. Remember the date. Write it down or something. Gonna be at our place.”  
“Uh-huh. Gotcha.”  
“Tell Leon, too.”  
“What am I, your little messenger bird?”  
“Tell the punk to come to the birthday, Hiro. Goodbyeee.”

He spends most of his day sitting around after all. He half-watches the TV as he cleans, scrolls through some occult blogs online, and waters his plants. It’s about three when he gets another call. He never gets this many.  
“Hi, Yasuhiro!”  
Ah, Fujisaki.  
“Chi-chan? What’s up?”  
There’s a bit of a commotion in the background.  
“I know you’re free today,” Chihiro muses, “and was gonna ask you if you wanted to play some multiplayer with us?”  
“Who’s ‘us’?” Hiro asks, straining to hear Chihiro’s quiet voice over the background noise.  
There’s an intense rattling noise as the phone gets taken, and some muted hollering.  
“IBUKI MIODA!!! Hihi, you’re friends with Fujisaki too? Epic! Chiaki introduced them to me ‘n we’re super tight now!! How do you know— “  
Chihiro returns to the phone after a bit of arguing.  
“Underclassmen friends. You can say no.”  
“Nah,” he says, closing his computer, “I’ve got nothin’ better. Be there soon.”

Two subway stops later, Hiro’s buzzing in at Chihiro’s building. He takes the elevator up and is met at the apartment door by the short programmer. They've got a cute green crew neck with a button-up underneath on.  
“Don’t say anything about my shorts, I’ve heard enough about it from Chiaki already.”  
Fujisaki is wearing cut-offs.  
“Is this an experimental look?”  
Chihiro just sighs and lets Hiro in. On the floor are two girls he’s never met. One has spiked, feathered, multicolored hair and the other looks like she has a YouTube gaming channel. Eye bags and everything.  
Mioda and Nanami, Hiro learns, are Juniors, and have clung to Fujisaki since they all met in their Graphic Design class. Mioda and Nanami are surprisingly close despite their drastically different personalities. Mioda, self-proclaimed ‘scene queen’, practically interrogates Hiro for all he’s worth before he can even settle down to sit. She gives him a cool bracelet, though, so she’s a good egg in his book. It says ‘RAWR’ in little pink letter beads, and he likes it very much. She seems to be proud of her gift, as well.  
Mioda mentions off-handedly that she knows Hiro’s ‘BFF’, as well, from a music course she took in her second year. She assures him he’s “just as cool as Kuwata said”.  
“Thank you, Mioda-san. Truly honored.”  
She nods violently, Leon-esque piercings jingling a bit. Hiro tries to imagine himself all full of metal like that and can’t. Mioda has the bridge of her nose pierced, for God’s sake. He could never.  
Chihiro groans and sets their controller down, Nanami smiling languidly at her victory. Mioda cheers for her friend, wrapping her up in a hug. Chihiro smiles at Hiro from their defeated lying position on the floor.  
“You look deep in thought, Yasuhiro. Your eyebrows are all angry.”  
Hiro brings a hand to his forehead. “Whoops. I’m not mad or anythin’, Chi. No worries.”  
Chihiro nods, and gets up clumsily to go get some snacks.

Hiro departs after lemon madeleines and a few subpar rounds of Mario Kart. It’s getting dark, and Autumn is definitely creeping in soon this year. There’s a light scattering of pale yellow ginkgo leaves on the sidewalk, which he kicks around a bit on his way back to the subway terminal. He’s only got a flannel shirt over his tee and joggers, and the evening has become chillier than expected. It almost smells like rain. He waits for the train for a few minutes, his favorite playlist ringing in his cheap earbuds.

When he’s home, he jogs up the stairs to his floor to find Mr. Kuwata himself sitting just outside the door, asleep.  
What?  
Hiro crouches and shakes the dozing boy, who startles awake, nearly missing Hiro’s jaw with a stray punch.  
“Shit! My heart. Oh, God. Hi. I thought you’d be home sooner.”  
Hiro snorts. “Was at Fujisaki’s. I didn’t think you’d be back tonight, dude. My bad.”  
Leon shakes his head. “No worries, bro. Look,” he says, turning his attention to the grocery bag on the floor, “I got us snacks ‘n stuff.”  
He did indeed get snacks and stuff. Leon presents a sprawl of drinks and candies and the like on the coffee table as soon as he gets inside. Amidst the pile are four cans of (very cheap) beer.  
“Today was shit,” Leon states, “so I decided I would eat and drink my feelings a li’l bit.” He reaches for a beer can and cracks it open, taking a long drink.  
Hiro just raises an eyebrow. “You okay, though? Like I get it, I just wanna check in with you though, dude.”  
Leon nods. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I jus’ got into an argument with a certain room mate of mine.”  
“Ah,” Hiro nods knowingly. “the usual culprit of your misery.”  
The baseball player groans and opens the second can, sliding it closer to Hiro. “Can we toast or somethin? This is kind of sad.”  
“Can I toast to hating your roomie as much as you do?”  
Leon nods and they clink their drinks together.  
Hiro settles on the floor across the table and pops a gummy into his mouth. “Here if you wanna talk about it though, man.”  
Leon waves his hand, dismissing the thought. “Nah, it’s okay. Thanks, though. Here, check out this chick I saw on Twitter today.”  
He scrolls for a beat and then hands over his phone. The girl’s pretty. She’s got long, jet-black hair and coy eyes, looking up at the camera. Hiro scratches his chin. He never got the appeal of the super-soft girls Leon liked. Hiro liked the more edgy look. If a chick could outsmart him, or kick his ass, he’d probably be set to marry her. That’s how his dad found his mom, anyway.  
“Cute, for sure,” he decides, tossing the phone back.  
“Man, come on. She’s perfect.”  
Hiro just shrugs. “With your look, I’d assume you’d be goin’ for chicks like uh… Ibuki Mioda instead of pop idols.”  
Leon laughs. “Ibuki? When’d you meet her?”  
“Today, at Fujisaki’s. They’re friends, apparently. That Nanami girl from Mioda’s year was there too.”  
“Huh,” the redhead huffs, taking another sip of his drink. “Didn’t think they’d all get along. Except Chihiro ‘n Nanami, maybe. They both like computers or whatever.”  
There’s a pause.  
“Hey, Hiro?”  
“Hm?”  
“Your card readings and stuff have a like, 30% chance of being right, right?”  
“My clairvoyance has a 30% accuracy rate. Tarot is a little different, why?”  
Leon shifts to sit on his knees, leaning over the deep brown wood of the tabletop.  
“Wouldja do a reading for me? I just wanna know.”


	3. Collisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlikely friendship begins to blossom. Leon starts to deal with some issues behind the scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> recreational marijuana use in this chapter as well as mentions of an abusive relationship towards the end.

Hiro blinks. Leon watches.

“Uh, yeah. Sure, bro. Jus’ don’t go makin’ fun of me, okay?”  
The redhead nods seriously, finishing off his drink. He tries to crush the can but gives up and sets it down on the floor next to him.

Hiro reaches for a tarot deck set conveniently on the table and begins to delicately shuffle them. Leon watches raptly as Hiro’s eyes flutter shut and he tilts his head back, as if looking up to the sky. He shuffles calmly, yet quickly, and pays no mind to the cards until three fall out of the stack and clatter onto the table, perfectly face-down. Hiro’s eyes snap back open and he smiles serenely, then begins to turn each card over. The illustrations on the cards are gorgeous— with gilded accents and bright, stained-glass colors. He scowls at the cards for a moment, thinking. Leon leans closer, tilting his head to see the pictures.

Two figures in front of an angelic figure, a withered man riding a horse, and a young man in elaborate robes standing on a cliffside. 

“The Lovers, Death and The Fool,” Hiro hums. “Interesting.”

Leon taps Death. “Does this mean— “  
“You’re not going to die, no.”

“Okay.”

“The Lovers suggests that you’ll have to make a decision about a relationship soon enough. It could be like… choosing a partner, or like… changing an existing relationship? Y’know?”

Leon’s eyebrows are practically at his hairline.

“You look like you got tazed,” Hiro taunts. “You okay?”  
Leon just nods.

“Mhm. Death suggests you are going to have to go through some shit. Relationship, interest, somethin’. Bad times—  _ but _ , you’ll be better for it when it’s over. So don’t worry too much, dude.”

“Someone is going to attempt to murder me.” Leon jokes.

“If you survive I guess that could fall under Death,” Hiro adds, to which Leon looks a bit nauseated. “But I really doubt someone’s gonna stab you in the shower or something.”

“Don’t stress me out like that, man.”  
“I jest, I jest. You might not be a huge fan of The Fool here, either, but you’ll be fine. The Fool is kind of all about beginner’s luck. New beginnings, not knowing what to do. Which I know you don’t like.” 

Leon shakes his head. “I like knowing things.”  
“I know. It’s change, though. You’re lookin’ at a lot of change, Leo-chi.”

“Cool. Thank you, man.”  
“Of course. Now. 300,000 yen, please.”  
Leon’s jaw drops.

“I’m kidding.”

They talk for a while about nothing. They finish the four beers— two each— which gets Leon slurring his words together a bit. He insists he’s not a lightweight. By midnight, they’re still chatting tipsily, and most of the food that Leon brought has either been eaten or stored away for another lazy Friday night. Leon drunkenly asks if he can spend the night, to which the answer is a yes, and promptly removes his torn black jeans to practically catapult himself onto the couch.

“Yo. Hiro. Dude.”  
“Dude, what?”

“You’re my best friend, man. This sounds corny as hell, but like, I’m so glad we’re buds.”

“I’m glad we’re buds too, Leon.”

“Hiro?”  
“Mm?”  
“When you get married, can I be invited?”  
“Psht. Yeah. I’ll even send your invitation first, man.”

“Fucking… hell yeah.”

Leon’s body likes to wake him up too early after he’s been up too late. He shoots awake at about five and beelines to empty his exploding bladder, trying as hard as he can not to wake the still-sleeping clairvoyant. To his dismay, Hiro is sitting blearily upright in his bed when Leon returns, dreads falling out of his ponytail.  
“”S so early, dude. Whas’ happening?”  
Leon scampers over to Hiro’s bed and pushes him by the shoulders back into a lying position, pulling the covers up to his chin.  
“Hush… get your beauty sleep.”  
Hiro nods weakly, closing his eyes. The ginger gives him a pat on the bicep and turns to get back on his makeshift bed, but Hiro mumbles something.  
“What’d ya say?”  
“... your hands are cold.”  
“Sorry.”  
“Issokay.”  
Leon’s just lifting the blankets off the couch to lie back down when Hiro speaks again.  
“Nah, fuck this,” he grumbles, sitting up. Leon watches, perplexed, as he rummages through the bedside drawers before producing a tin of mints. The clairvoyant pushes the lid of the container open and withdraws a hand-rolled joint. He places it gently between his lips and lights it with a Zippo from the same drawer, inhaling deeply. He rubs his eyes and blows out a cloud of smoke, and then suddenly the blunt is being held out to Leon, who pads over and takes it. It was cool that they could share stuff like this with no issue. Was less hassle.  
“Thank you, sir.”  
“No problemo. Come sit.”  
He does. The two rest on the edge of Hiro’s bed, passing the joint between them. They haven’t had an early-morning smoke in a while. It’s nice. Hiro gets up to crack open a window, and Leon ventures into the kitchen to find something for their daybreak breakfast.  
Hiro leans against the counter, watching the baseball player wash rice. Leon’s got a really toned back, he notices, and the muscles shift smoothly as he stirs the grain. Leon looks over his shoulder, holding the stub of the blunt between his lips, and says something through his teeth. Hiro doesn’t really hear, but nods anyways. Leon snickers and turns back to his task. The redhead’s hair is falling in his face without its usual gel, and his eyes are relaxed from the smoke. Hiro feels a tug somewhere in his stomach and jumps a little.  
“You good?”  
The clairvoyant lets out a ‘heh’.  
“Yeah. I dunno what just happened.”  
He must be hungry.

Hiro has work soon after they eat. He bathes quickly, throws on some clothes (thank God for the lack of uniform at this place) and pulls on his shoes.  
“Yo, it’s gonna rain for real tonight. Take a coat or somethin, man,” Leon shouts from the kitchen.  
“You’re my savior, bro! See ya later.”  
He walks to the subway station and waits. Down the platform he sees a short girl with long, braided hair and sidles up to her.  
“Fukawa-san.”  
“Hagakure.”  
“It’s cool that we have the same commute on Saturdays, Toko-chi.”  
Toko just nods. Their two workplaces are on the same street— Toko in some cute little family bookstore and Hiro at the record shop. Neither of their occupations required uniforms, which is something he never really processed despite the numerous occasions he’s ridden the train with Touko. She’s always had a very nice style. He’s a bit jealous.  
“What’s on your shirt, Toko?”  
She pulls the hem of the cropped white tee to reveal a print of a mouse and a duck in a field.  
“A mouse and a duck. Komaru gave it to me. She says I’m the mouse and she’s the duck.”  
“Komaru?” Hiro presses.  
There’s a pause. “Komaru, my girlfriend.” Toko whispers.  
Hiro just looks more puzzled.  
“She’s a year below us in school?”  
Still nothing.  
“Komaru Naegi, Makoto’s sister?”  
Ding-ding-ding.  
“Oh shit! Why didn’t you tell me?”  
Toko rolls her eyes. “I have. We don’t talk that much anyways, Hagakure.”  
“We should!” he insists, looking down at her earnestly. “You’re cool, Tokoko.”  
“Thanks.” She mumbles. “But don’t go giving me a nickname like that or anything. You sound like your mom.”  
“Good. She’s a nice lady.”  
They have a mostly one-sided conversation until they depart.

Hiro’s boss greets him as he walks in, thanking him for taking the shift. He informs the clairvoyant that there’s a new trainee today, and that they’d be shadowing him. Hiro assures that he’ll take great care of them. When the trainee is retrieved from the back room, Hiro’s eyebrows almost hit the ceiling.  
“Yasuhiro?!” squeaks Ibuki Mioda, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “You work here? Ohmygod! This is so cool. You’re the best upperclassman. Should I start calling you _senpai?_ Hagakure-sama?”  
Hiro’s just glad to have a helper around the store, how _rabid_ she is doesn’t matter too much.

It hits about four o’clock, and Hiro can tell his assistant is losing steam.  
“You okay, Mioda?” he whispers as she yawns in front of the CD case.  
She gives him an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Great as usual! Ibuki’s just sleepy ‘cuz she stayed up waaaaay too late last night!”  
“I get that. Me too. But on the day before your new job, Mioda?”  
Mioda just knocks her fist against the side of her head. “Silly me!”  
Despite her goofiness, Mioda’s turning out to be very helpful to customers. She’s got an absolute ton of musical knowledge and is quick to recommend bands to those curious enough to approach her. He never thought he’d be friends with someone like her, but she’s cool. She seems to admire him and Leon quite a bit, anyway.  
Mioda insists on walking with him to the train. She wears so much metal and accessories that she jingles when she walks. They probably look an odd pair walking along together— a girl with three belts on and ridiculously teased hair and a guy wearing a white t-shirt and loose-fit jeans. Cool kid and normie? She waves exaggeratedly as they depart.

Hiro can feel raindrops on his shoulders as he ascends the platform stairs up to his street. He pulls on his windbreaker just in time, as the drops begin to fall harder and faster. He’s thankful for the short walk to his building on days like these.  
He opens the door to find the absence of Leon. On the kitchen table, there’s a note.

_hey hiro, i’m out right now cuz something came up with my housing arrangement and its shitty but i’ll be fine. im giving you her number in case she like stabs me or something: XXX-337-7147. shes probably kicking me out idk ill be back asap. call her if im not back by 8.  
kuwata_

Leon’s room mate is a very old friend of theirs. She was close with the group in their first year, but it turned out that she was a piece of shit, so they stopped talking to her as best they could. She had already grappled Leon into a housing agreement with her by the time she got exposed as a manipulative bitch, so he had to put up with her for far, far longer than the rest. Ogami especially hated her. They even fought once. Hiro sighs and puts the note back down. Leon would be fine.


	4. Maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon deals with some conflict and Hiro is too much of an empath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter are just: Junko being a bad person. Also a little angst as a treat. Sorry this one's short.

_ hey hiro, i’m out right now cuz something came up with my housing arrangement and its shitty but i’ll be fine. im giving you her number in case she like stabs me or something: XXX-337-7147. shes probably kicking me out idk ill be back asap. call her if im not back by 8. _

_ \- kuwata _

Hiro’s probably read the note six times. The hands of the clock in the kitchen inch closer and closer to 8 o’clock. No matter how hard Hiro stares, they won’t stop ticking closer, and he can feel his anxiety simmer hotter in his throat with each  _ click. _

He fishes his cracked phone from his jacket pocket and dials the number.

It feels like it rings for an hour.

“Heyyyy! Hiro… long time no talk! You been avoiding me or somethin’?”

Hiro can already feel a headache coming on.

“Enoshima. Where’s Leon.”

She giggles, and it’s cough-medicine-sweet.

“I still got him here! No worries!! You waitin’ on him for something?”

“Not really.”  
“Then it’s okay! Chill out, big guy. He’ll be out of my hair soon enough and then he’s all yours again.”

“What do you mean— “

“Ciao!!”

She hangs up.

Out of her hair. He’s gonna be out of her hair? The clairvoyant sets his phone down on the table, staring at it blankly. he doesn't even feel mad.

He only really snaps out of it when the door buzzes. His eyes flicker to the clock again and it’s just brushing 9. When the door swings open, a very disheveled Leon Kuwata is standing there carrying a duffel bag near bursting.

He says nothing as he walks inside. Hiro stands close and watches him step out of his shoes. Leon moves with a limp exhaustion and has a haze to his eyes. He kind of wanders over to the clairvoyant and leans his forehead at the other’s collar. Hiro just places a hand on the top of his head. 

Leon sniffs and reaches a hand up to his face, scrubbing at what Hiro  _ knows _ are tears. The redhead rights himself and avoids eye contact. Hiro sees the redness around his eyes anyway. They wordlessly retreat to bed, Leon collapsing onto the couch.

When Hiro wakes, Leon’s not there. The blanket he uses has been folded neatly, and his shoes and jacket are nowhere to be seen. There’s no note, either. Hiro doesn’t know what he expected, but something in his chest twists to the point of being nausea-inducing. He chokes out the feeling with earthy smoke. He checks his phone for any word and is met with zero notifications. The number stares back at him, not dauntingly, but a hollow kind of taunt. The twisting echoes as he goes through his day, though. He should be sharing the joint with Leon, he should be waving goodbyes when he leaves the apartment. Leon does this sometimes— the isolation. He always comes back, but now who knows where he is. Hiro’s alone on the train. No Saturday Fukawa bonding, no Leon to bother. He kind of just zones out, gazing blindly at the floor of the traincar.

He goes about his day in this fragmented state, thinking about both everything and nothing. Stress does this to him, and he tends to stress about other people’s issues more than his own. What would Leon do? Where is he? What is he doing? And then nothing. And then more obsessive thought— a cycle only silenced when he goes to bed early again.

His phone buzzes at around three. The ringtone sounds metallic over the sound of heavy night rain hitting the windows. He blearily searches in the dark before picking up.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Hiro rubs at his eyes.

“S’okay, Leochi. You can... you can do what you want to.”

There’s a beat.

“Can... can you unlock the door?”, Leon whispers.

“Oh, you’re— yeah, hold on.”

He does so, and the redhead slips in, drenched.

Hiro closes the door quietly behind him, and Leon sheds his wet jacket. He tries to wring some of the water out of his shirt to no avail. Hiro envelops him in a hug anyway. Leon’s tee sticks to Hiro’s bare chest, and his hair drips rainwater on the floor, but neither care. Leon’s bones ache. He shudders as he sobs into the crook of Hiro’s neck. The twisting in Hiro’s chest hurts less.

Hiro gives him a dry shirt and a towel, and they sit together on the sofa when Leon’s tears slow.

“Why’d you leave?” Hiro mumbles.

Leon sniffs. “I couldn’t make you put up with me wallowing all day.”  
“I would have preferred to help ya outta wallowin’ instead of worryin’ aboutcha all day.”

“... I know I shouldn’t have. I’m really sorry.”  
“Ya don’t need to apologize to me, Leochi.”  
Leon averts his eyes.  
“”m here for you. We’re best buds.”

Leon looks mournfully at the clairvoyant.

“Don’t look at me like that, man. C’mere.”

Hiro stands and meanders over to his bed, shuffling under the covers. Leon stares vacantly at him.

“Whaddaya mean ‘come here’, yer in bed.”

“We’re bros, bro. Jus’ come lay here with me.”

He tentatively agrees, lying on his back next to Hiro, who’s propped up on one elbow. The sheets smell like smoke and lavender. So does Hiro.   
The room is dark and warm, raindrops hitting the windows with the same ferocity as before. Leon lets his tired eyes close. To his right, Hiro whispers something.

“Huh?”

“Uh... nevermind.” The fortune-teller laughs breathily.

“Nah, what is it? ‘S gonna bother me now.”

There’s a pause.

“Can I touch you?”

Leon chokes. “Whuh?”

“Nothin’ weird, man! No! It’s just like... what’s the word? Uh... skinship? Between friends. When they need comfort?”

“I still don’t— “

Hiro’s hand— smooth and warm— meets the opposite side of Leon’s torso, gently pushing him to roll closer to the other. His hand rests there on the baseball player’s ribs, and now there’s only about six inches between them. Their legs brush under the sheets, and Leon feels a lump rise in his throat. He swallows it back down.

“Oh, this... kinda thing. Yeah. This is okay.”


	5. Helping the Medicine Go Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ CHAPTER NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER!!!
> 
> Some (slightly vague) backstory. Leon might be dealing with more than he'd letting on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!!! Hi here's a quick note please read this. Basically, I'm a moron and forgot to paste a VERY IMPORTANT segment of Chapter 3 (Collisions) before I posted it, so for the sake of continuity please go reread the first part of that segment. Many apologies. !!!!!!!  
> Anyways, there's talk of abusive relationships and manipulation in this chapter. There's an allusion to unwanted sexual comments made about someone's body. That's about it for warnings though.  
> Sorry again for not posting CH3 right oh my gosh,,,

Pale light floods the room in the early morning. The sky is still grey, and dewy droplets of rain cling to the glass of the windows. Hiro wakes to hair in his face and tangled limbs. Leon ended up far closer to him than expected, the ginger’s head tucked under Hiro’s chin, and a pale, muscular arm thrown limply over the clairvoyant’s tan waist. His touch is somewhere between warm and searing. Hiro feels a tug deep in his stomach and scampers to release himself from Leon’s dozing hold.

Leon sleeps peacefully for hours after the taller man rises. Hiro eats and goes about his day, occasionally fighting his eyes back to focus after they drifted to the sleeping man. It was a strange sight, Leon in his bed, but not bad. Just new. It was cool, though. What’s wrong with havin’ a snooze with your best friend?

The morning felt too calm for the previous night’s events, though.

Leon stirs approaching noon, and sits up abruptly, looking to his right where Hiro had been, then straight, where he finds him at his desk. Leon puts a hand to his chest.

“Sorry. Thought we were taking turns disappearing or something.”

Hiro snickers. “No, that’s your job. I just woke up earlier than you.”

“Clearly.”

Leon slides out of the bed, fiddling with the hem of his (borrowed) shirt awkwardly. Hiro feels that tug in his gut catch again and coughs, trying to disperse it. 

“Uh, you sleep okay?”  
“Like a log, man.”

They had to talk about what had happened. Neither wanted to. Both wished they had nothing to do with Leon’s shitty roommate. 

Everything had gone to shit when they all opened up to her, after all.

The thing about Junko Enoshima is that she didn’t care who she wounded so long as  _ she _ was having fun. This sadistic streak of hers only really became clear when everyone was well into their friendship with her. She had a talent for twisting words and manipulating so that everything turned out how she wanted it to. Of course, none of this slimy behavior was instantaneous. They all noticed it gradually— she would drop little lies that would confuse others for simply no reason, or cheat when they were playing games together, or steal belongings. It was all… relatively harmless ‘fun’ until their junior year together.

Leon and Sayaka Maizono, Hiro still vividly remembers, were romantically involved that year. It took a year of awkward pining and flirting on usually-impulsive Leon’s part before anything actually happened. It was kind of a funny story, really. Leon spent ages lamenting over their seemingly ever-platonic relationship, only for Maizono to finally make the first move. But alas, if budding romance was ever brought up in a story about Junko Enoshima, it meant it had to fall apart.

At the time, Hiro had assumed she was jealous of one of them, although as the story folded out, he became less and less sure that Junko was acting with any motive at all. 

The couple had a date that night. Hiro had wished the baseball player good luck, and Leon had dashed excitedly out the door, babbling about every cool place he wanted to take her. Leon’s excitement had given Hiro a hopeful feeling— snuffed out the nausea he felt when his friend talked about his new companion. Sure, the couple was unlikely, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t be a good match.

His gut feeling, though, was right as always. Leon wasn’t back at midnight like he promised, nor did he return at any hour of the early morning that Hiro stayed up for him. The only thing he got was a call from Junko Enoshima.

She assured him in her saccharine voice that everything was okay, and that Leon would be home soon. She laughed— not the one he was used to, but something dark… dismissive. Vile. The bitterness of antibiotics, maybe, rather than cloying syrup. “I’m sorry,” she had spat amidst her laughter, “I didn’t mean to pull this many strings. It was supposed to be funny.” Hiro only learned what ‘it’ was two days later. 

Leon was at home with his poison-apple roommate. Had been since the night it all started. Enoshima confessed to her crime on the phone with Hiro, telling him it was fine, and that there was no need for concern. Junko’s idea of a prank was apparently an intricately-spun web of lies— pinning Leon as the culprit of some  _ disgusting _ comments about his blue-haired companion— which Hiro of course, was told in delightedly comprehensive detail by the mastermind of it all. Leon would never say anything like that, and the fact that Maizono believed all these comments to be true? Junko was her friend. Of course she had believed her cruel joke to be the truth, and not the confused man who had just started dating her. With nothing but her sharp tongue, Junko stole away Maizono. 

Hiro told Leon the minute they saw each other a week after. It was probably not the wisest idea, but Hiro didn’t want to be an accomplice. That was the first time he saw tears on Leon’s face. They weren’t sad, they were angry. Hot, angry tears that left stinging tracks down his face as he dialed Junko’s number time after time after time.

She didn’t pick up. The roommates began arguing more frequently. Leon would leave important things at friend’s places so Junko didn’t take them. She was a petty thief and a petty liar. The word of her doings eventually spread, but it was too late. Maizono was not inclined to hear any apologies and moved back home. They hadn’t heard from her since.

So yeah, everything crashed and burned when that pink-haired demon got involved.

As much as Hiro would like to, he doubted he would get much out of Leon about his sudden disappearances. Since the ‘Maizono Incident’, he’d been less quick to spill his guts to anyone who’d even pretend to listen.

“Sakura’s birthday is coming up,” Hiro mentions, breaking the silence. “On the thirteenth. Aoi told me to tell you to go.”

“Oh. Cool. Yeah, I’ll go.”

And that’s that. Leon leaves for work, Hiro leaves for class, and the apartment is empty, save for the elephant that they still need to address.

Hiro gets back before Leon does, as seems to be the norm as of late. He cleans up a bit, wasting time until the first night of the new week settles. He can finally exhale the breath he’s been (metaphorically and physically) holding when the doorbell buzzes. They exchange crooked smiles, and Hiro lets him in. 

Leon pats the clairvoyant on the back. “Haven’t gotten rid of me yet, man.”

They order food in and kick back in front of the TV. Conversation warms up again, and it’s almost like nothing ever happened.

At around ten, Leon switches his video game off. Hiro, who was watching until about an hour ago, is now on his back on the floor, scrolling boredly through some social media feed. He pauses, absently watching Leon, whose back is turned to him. Leon’s shoulders and upper arms are splattered with freckles. The baseball player’s biceps flex slightly as he slides off his shirt, revealing more sunkissed skin. Hiro’s eyes drift to the dimples on Leon’s lower back and further downwards to sculpted thighs and calves.

What was he doing. He blinks hard.

“Did you hear me?”

Hiro sits up. “Oh. No, sorry.”

Leon laughs lightly, shoulder muscles shifting.

“I said your tarot reading might’ve been right.”

“Well, that’s good, right?”  
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, especially that one card. Death, I think. You said I’d be going through some shit, didn’t you?” He fiddles with the button on his jeans. “I know I haven’t been the best with, like, communication since Enoshima started getting pissy with me again. I don’t wanna worry you, man. You don’t deserve anythin’ like that.”

Hiro clicks his phone off. Maybe he was gonna get answers out of Leon.

“I mean, it’s okay, Leochi. You’ve got a lot goin’ on.”

“Doesn’t mean I get to leave you outta the loop all the time,” he says, glancing over his shoulder to the clairvoyant. “I left the other day ‘cuz I thought I’d be back. I just had to… sort some legal shit out with her. She’s kicking— she  _ has _ kicked me out, so I had to… y’know. Legally get kicked out. Collect the rest of my shit. I couldn’t tell you what I did, really. She just— she just told me when I came home one night that she was tired of having me around.”

“She said that to you?”

“That she was tired of me? Yeah.”

There’s a pause before Hiro speaks again.

“I think it’s pretty obvious, but I’m happy to have you here.”

“Yeah. Thanks, man. ‘M lucky to have you.”

Leon looks to the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

“She— “

His voice cracks.

“She said somethin’ to me when I was there. Uh, somethin’ that hurt.”

“I’ll kick her ass, dude.”

The redhead laughs weakly. More like a sharp exhalation.

“She said she’s glad she wrecked my chances with Sayaka last year. Because… because I would have hurt her anyways. She… she thinks I’d genuinely fuckin’  _ say shit like that about her. _ She fuckin’— “

He rakes his hands through his hair.

“She said she just… told her what she knew was going to happen. Because apparently I’m that scummy. She says awful shit to me all the time, but  _ telling  _ me I’d talk about Sayaka’s  _ body like that _ ?”

It feels like the temperature in the room spikes. 

“I’m seeing red,” the baseball player says, voice shaking. “I need to go to sleep.”


	6. Silver Light/Golden Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 13th is Sakura Oogami's birthday :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Celebratory drinks all around is really the only content warning. Sorry about the short chapter and high dialogue content, I promise the next one will be better!

September 13th rolls around faster than expected. It’s been a few days since Hiro learned what happened between Junko and Leon that night— at least most of it, he guesses. Leon’s been acting close to his usual self, anyway, which comforts him. The two have been spending ridiculous amounts of time together. They see each other all hours a day, save for those spent in class and at work— it seems like it’s helping Leon, maybe. He gets home before Hiro sometimes, and always greets him with a smile. He sometimes even says he was waiting for him, which feels oddly nice to hear.

Aoi Asahina calls them that morning to make sure they’re attending the party, baiting them with promises of cake, which they of course fall for. Sakura’s always been weird about gift-giving, so Aoi insists they bring nothing to give, save for any snacks or drinks they might want to share.

Asahina and Oogami’s apartment is gorgeous. It’s rather expansive for two students, with lots of traditional Japanese decor thanks to Sakura’s tastes. Sakura herself greets them at the door, towering over both. She and Hiro didn’t get along for a while, but it’s actually very hard to dislike her. He learned some respect, both through maturing as a person and having some knocked into him by a few slaps from the taller woman.

The party seems to be pretty small— not even their full class is there. They seem to be missing Byakuya Togami, most noticeably.

“Where is everyone?” Leon whispers up to Sakura.

Sakura shakes her head. “We are missing a few… Byakuya, obviously no Junko or Maizono,” to which Leon sighs, “and no Hifumi. Although, I’m not sure Aoi even invited him. Celestia is visiting her parents.”

“So is Togami just too cool for peasant parties or something?”

Sakura laughs softly. “Probably. You could ask Aoi, I’m sure she’s heard his excuses.”

It turns out Togami’s out of the country and was “not in any way going to fly all the way back for a birthday”. Aoi doesn’t seem too ticked off, though. He’d probably diss the quality of the cake, anyway. 

Hiro and Leon are quickly approached by the lovely Mukuro Ikusaba, who extends two cups of lemonade to them. 

“I made it,” she says quietly. “Please tell me it’s good.”

It is.

“It’s been a while since we’ve talked, Mukuro.” Hiro says between sips.

She nods. “It has been. Are you two doing alright? I… I heard the news, Leon. I apologize on behalf of my sister.”

Leon waves his hand. “Eh, don’t worry. She’s the one with apologizing to do, not you. I’m alright, though.”

“How’re your classes going, Mukuro-chan?”

Mukuro smiles up at Hiro. “Just fine! I’m doing much better than I was.”  
Leon wasn’t the only one having his life ruined by Junko last year. Mukuro, Junko’s only relative, also caught the brunt of it. Mukuro, usually an incredibly good student, risked failing out of her junior year due to her sister’s antics.   
“I have therapy now,” the freckled girl continues. “and I think it’s going to work out. I’m back up to good grades, at least. I live with an underclassman friend, too, so I’m not alone anymore. She’s very sweet. We work very similarly.”

She seems healthy and happy, which is a refreshing look on her. Her eyes look bright and filled with a new energy, which boosts the morale of everyone else. Their whole class adores Mukuro. She deserves the happiness that she’s getting.

Aoi and Sakura cut the cake together (like it’s their  _ wedding  _ and not just Sakura turning another year older) and everyone digs in. Aoi produces a large bottle of sparkling wine, pouring generous glasses for everyone (save for Ishimaru, who was straight-edge as he was their first year), and they all disperse to lounge on furniture and converse. Hiro lets his eyes wander to his friends. Mondo is telling a seemingly enthralling story to Chihiro, Naegi and Kyoko, and Ishimaru is rattling on about something to a very attentive Sakura. The afternoon is pleasant— the open windows letting in the soft autumn breeze and smell of pine, and Hiro smiles into his plastic cup of sweet wine. Mukuro tipsily lays herself over Hiro’s lap on the couch he and Leon have occupied, holding a forkful of cake to his lips, which he allows her to feed him.

“Mukuro, you’re like a mother bird giving worms to her chicks.”

“Ew,” the dark-haired girl whines, sticking another forkful of dessert into Hiro’s mouth, “Leon. don’t be gross.”

“Yeah, Leon. Don’t be gross. I’m eating, here.”

The party packs up approaching the evening. They say their goodbyes and congratulations to Sakura, and Leon and Hiro start their walk back to the apartment. They realize about five minutes in that they’re being trailed by Mukuro, who stops in her tracks when they turn to greet her.

“You okay, Muku-chi?”

She nods absently, black mary-jane shoes clicking on the sidewalk as she catches up to them.

“You sure?” Hiro presses, gently squeezing her arm. 

Mukuro nods again. “I don’t think I’m used to drinking yet.”

She hiccups, and Leon snorts.

“I think you’re right.”

“Muku-chi, you’re usually so responsible,” Hiro murmurs, to which Leon hums in agreement. “It’s kinda nice to see you lighten up with the rest of us.”

Mukuro smiles bashfully, fiddling with the hem of her black cardigan.

“I like it, as well. Being able to hang out with people without getting talked over by my sister is… fulfilling.”

“We like hearing you talk.”

“I like that you like hearing me talk, Yasuhiro.”

Mukuro walks with them for a while, making small talk with Leon about some bands he’d never heard of. The sky just began to turn a yellowy-orange at the horizon, like honey, and it bathes the three in an amber glow that makes Leon’s bright hair shine redder. Ikusaba bids them goodbye with a tentative hug, which they return fiercely, and they go their separate ways.

The same golden light they had stood in outside was streaming through the picture window in Hiro’s apartment, casting flaxen light about the room and catching in every reflective surface it could reach, including Leon’s jewelry. His lip ring shone a warm silver, and Hiro watched as the baseball player’s mouth moved, not listening to whatever he was saying. It was the reflections that were making him look so intently, right? Leon’s lips part as he laughs silently, and Hiro can see the metallic gleam of his tongue piercing. The clairvoyant blinks fast, clearing his throat and sliding his weirdly sweaty hands into the pockets of his jeans. Gross.

“You okay man? I feel like you’re spacing out a lot recently.”

Hiro breathes out a laugh. “‘M fine, dude. Sorry about that.”

Leon nods, playing with one of the small hoops on his ear. He looks almost smug. It’s hard to tell.

“What planet were you on just then, huh?”

“Um, Mars, I think.”

The redhead snickers. “I see.”


	7. Let Go of Wrong and Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Internal angst on Leon's part, being epic friends with Ibuki on Hiro's part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha leons brain go brrr
> 
> Chapter title is from Dirty Car by the Studio Killers :)

Leon can’t sleep. He tosses and turns on Hiro’s couch, to no avail. The hands on the clock in the kitchen nearby only threaten to inch closer to three AM.

It’s not like he’d never slept with something bothering him before, so why was this time any different? He’s not nosy, nor does he _like_ knowing what’s going on inside other people’s heads, but he sure wishes he did now.

Hiro _has_ been acting weird. And for a while now, that is. The constant zoning out was weird. Maybe with Leon practically freeloading off of him, he’d grown tired of Leon’s presence? But why, then, did Hiro seem so happy when he came home to find him? Had he done something weird? Said something bad? Did he maybe sleep talk some weird-ass shit that one night they shared Hiro’s bed?

When they shared Hiro’s bed. They didn’t share it, that’s fuckin’ stupid. Hiro was just lookin’ out for him. Maybe _he_ was the one acting weird, not his friend. Leon cringes at the thought, pulling his blanket over his head. It wasn’t even his blanket. It was Hiro’s.

He shakes his head and tries to rationalize. It was normal to go to sleep with your bros. Taka and Mondo did that— never mind. They _did_ that, but that was before they, y’know. Got together. And actually… slept together. He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to banish the thought, shaking his head again as if the movement will expel it, but is met behind his eyelids by the image of Hiro dozing peacefully next to him— WHAT? He tries again, rubbing at his eyes, but all his mind produces instead of the calming, sleep-inducing thought he wants is that same view of his friend, smooth, bare chest and parted lips, lying next to him with a hand around his waist. Hiro’s hand, the thought of which makes Leon shiver despite its definite warmth. 

Heat pools low in his stomach, and Leon grips his t-shirt, attempting to dismiss the feeling as guilt. He should feel guilty. His stomach is in knots _because_ he feels guilty. He’s thinking about something… stupid… like that when he should be worried about his friend’s well-being. Hiro was acting weird, after all.

Leon’s asleep when the clairvoyant leaves for work.

Hiro rides the train Fukawa-less again, which doesn’t stop him from pestering her over text.

_on my way 2 work tokoko :^D_

_Great to know. Thanks, Yasuhiro._

_r u at the bookstore 2day?_

_No, I’ve got today off. I’m in class._

_what class? :^0_

_One that I’m not supposed to have my phone out in._

Hiro’s glad to find Ibuki at the record store after his painfully silent commute. She perks up from her slumped position at the checkout when he walks in, scampering over like some rhinestone-wearing puppy.

“Yasuhiro! Hagakure-sama! Hiro! Guess what?”

The clairvoyant snickers at the abundance of nicknames. “What is it, ‘Buki?”

“I got a gig!”

He raises an eyebrow, but she answers his question before he can ask. 

“My band and I got another gig at some underground place!”  
“You’re in a band? I mean, of course you are, but I guess this is news to me.”

“I am! And we’re super cool. The show is… uh… “

She stalls, pulling a torn-off corner of paper from the pocket of her pink, leopard-print midi skirt.

“Tonight!.” 

“What time?” Hiro asks, steering his coworker back over to the counter by the shoulders. “And where?”

Ibuki stuffs the paper back into her pocket. “‘S at, like, 8? At this cool li’l music place called The Jabberwock!”

Hiro nods. 

“I’ll try ‘n make it.”

He does make it, with Leon in tow. When Hiro had arrived home, his friend had been a little jumpy. He assured the clairvoyant he just didn’t sleep well, which Hiro reluctantly accepted. Leon did enthusiastically agree to a concert outing though, and he was especially excited to accept when he learned his punk little _kouhai_ was the lead singer.

The night air is crisply cold, so the two are thankful for the crowd in the venue. Ibuki was right when she said the place was underground, it’s practically a basement with a ground-level entrance. The audience is rather large, and Hiro thinks he spots some people from their college, namely a tall, muscular, tan girl standing with an intimidatingly tall, dark haired man. They seem to recognize him, as well, and the tall man waves at Leon.

“Underclassmen,” Leon whispers, to which Hiro nods. There seem to be quite a few here.

The two push through the crowd to stand just in behind the small barricade in front of the stage. The overhead lights flicker out a few minutes later, only to be replaced by red stage ones. The colors change slowly as they wait, silver cymbals of the drum set onstage glinting.

The crowd roars as the curtain parts, and Ibuki walks out. She’s got great stage presence already, smiling brightly and striking poses as everyone applauds. The lights turn aqua, and Ibuki begins to speak into the mic. 

“We’re still settin’ up a lil bit, but I wanted to come talk to y’all a bit!”

Ibuki meanders onstage, bright blue lights dancing shadows across her face as she crouches to talk to audience members. From behind the curtain, Hiro can hear instruments being tested. The murmur of the crowd hushes as a toned girl with ridiculous eyeliner shuffles out from behind the curtain and situates herself at the drum set. Her long, dark hair is pulled into buns on the side of her head, and her bangs fall in her face when she sits down. A tall blonde follows her closely, carrying a pink keytar on a white leather strap over her back. Her cheekbones shine brightly with glitter as the stage lights fade to pink. Lastly, two more girls walk out.

The lights change again— warm yellow— and bathe Toko Fukawa and Mukuro Ikusaba in gold. Leon watches Hiro’s jaw _drop._

Toko’s gently holding a pearlescent white bass, which she fiddles with incessantly. This isn’t the Toko that anyone knows. Now she’s all dark eye makeup, with her plum-colored hair in loose waves, and skater-skirt outfitted with a pair of peach-tinted sunglasses on. She’s even got some of Ibuki’s beaded bracelets around her thin wrists. Mukuro is dressed similarly, a hefty-looking red guitar slung around her torso on a studded strap, her hair teased out and her lips painted a dark red. It’s hard to tell under the brightness of the stage, but she seems to blush as she finds the clairvoyant and baseball star in the crowd.

Toko, however, looks up to spot Hiro and the others, and looks directly back down at her instrument. Ibuki, who was busy helping her blonde bandmate set up, rises to her feet, which are decked out in a pair of frighteningly tall platform shoes, and brings a microphone to her face.

“Alright! Hey, hey, hey!”, she exclaims. “Thank y’all for comin’ to tonight’s show!”

The crowd whoops and cheers.

“Behind me is Kaede Akamatsu on keytar,” which raises more applause, along with the obnoxious whoops of a tall, purple-haired man near the back. 

“We’ve got Toko Fukawa on bass,” and Toko lets a gritty chord rip through the audience.

“Mukuro Ikusaba on second guitar, and Tenko Chabashira on drums!” 

Mukuro holds up a peace sign as Tenko hammers out an intense beat. Hiro looks at Leon next to him, hand over mouth in awe.

The cheering roars as Chabashira raises her drumsticks and counts off.

“WE ARE SCHOOLGIRL MURDER PARTY, AND WE’RE HERE TO KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF! ON, TWO, THREE, FOUR—”

The music kicks up into an astonishing pop-punk cover of No Doubt’s ‘Just a Girl’, Ibuki’s sweet, yet rough voice ringing perfect notes through the room. Toko nods along to the beat of the drums behind her, deftly working the fret of her bass. Electric notes fly off the stage from Mukuro’s glittering ruby guitar, and she smiles, eyes closed and feeling the music.

The crowd _erupts_ in cheers as Mukuro lets the last note fizzle, and Tenko strikes up another song— an original, for which Ibuki picks up a red guitar and strikes a note that tears through the venue, starting a deluge of notes, followed by immaculate bass and drums.

They fucking _rock._

Leon can barely hear, let alone think, after the show. Hopefully he head-banged out all that was haunting him.

“Thanks for takin’ me here, man. I needed it.”

Hiro grins down at him.

“I feel like my ears are broken now,” the clairvoyant says, a little too loudly. Leon just laughs.

The two find Ibuki and the rest of the band after more of the audience have departed. They all look exhausted, but after a set as impressive as it was, neither are surprised. Toko and Mukuro both avert their eyes as Hiro and Leon approach, but after they both commend them, they brighten up.

“Tokoko, I had no idea you played bass! ‘N Muku-chi, you’re so good at guitar,” Hiro praises, clearly still in a bit of shock.

  
Leon smiles in agreement. “That was fuckin’ tight.”

“You too, ‘Buki!! You’re such a good singer,”

Leon watches Hiro hype up each member of the band, who all bashfully accept their compliments.

“We have to clean up,” Chabashira, the drummer, mentions, “but I’m sure Ibuki and Mukuro and Toko will find you afterwards.”

They agree, and leave to wait outside for their incredible rock star friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who cares, Schoolgirl Murder Party covers these songs during their set:  
> 1\. Just a Girl, no Doubt  
> 2\. Hot Mess, GIRLI  
> 3\. CEASE AND DESIST, Alice Glass  
> 4\. Crazy Girls, TOOPOOR  
> These are basically the tracks I listened to nonstop while writing this chapter. And yes I headcanon that Ibuki can speak English.


	8. Captive in His Own Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, a bit of insight on Leon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for how short this is, there's probably gonna be another update tomorrow night that'll be much longer :)

“You freaked me out, showin’ up in the audience like that, Yasuhiro,” Toko mutters as they exit the venue after packing up.

The street is empty and dimly-lit, the rosy glow of The Jabberwock’s neon sign mirroring on the writer’s glasses. The bandmates, followed by Leon, push out of the door and join them, huddling in the brisk night breeze. 

“Didn’t expect to look into the crowd and recognise people.”

Hiro chuckles. “Sorry, Tokoko. We really didn’t know you  _ or _ Muku were musicians.”

“Incredible ones, at that.” Leon adds.

Mukuro blushes a light pink, tugging at the strap of her guitar case.

“I’m thankful for your support, though. No matter how surprising it was.”

She’s looking right at Hiro, who just briefly meets her gaze with a flash of a lopsided smile. Leon watches the brief exchange, and he feels his eyebrows knit together, the back of his neck prickling.

He quickly has the thought knocked out of him, though, as Ibuki begins hugging her goodbyes. She wraps her arms tightly around the redhead, who sighs and pats her on the head. Chabashira and Akamatsu wave their goodbyes and head off with Ibuki, Toko stalling to talk with Leon briefly about a class they share.

Mukuro, however, doesn’t depart with the rest, instead electing to hover around Hiro. He only really notices when she catches his hand as he starts to walk away.

“Ah, Muku-chi. What’s up?”

She looks almost pleading as she looks up at him. The streetlight above lights her face, and her dark eye makeup and red lips are far more clear than they were onstage. She glances down to her hand, which is still holding the clairvoyant’s.

“Hiro?” 

“Yeah?”

“Um… do you wanna get lunch with me? Like, tomorrow?”

Leon just barely overhears. The prickling on his neck is back, for some reason. Toko looks at him with a little concern on her face, tentatively raising an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I think… y’know what, never mind. Have a nice night, Fukawa.”

Fukawa mutters something dismissively and shuffles away, steel-toed boots clunking heavily against the pavement. The redhead turns over his shoulder to see the remaining two. It was almost cinematic, the way the two of them stood under the blond beam of the street lamp, the horizon lit in thin strips of blue and orange to meet the deep inkiness of the sky above. Their voices are faint. Leon wonders why he’s eavesdropping.

“Oh, is that it? Yeah, Muku, we can get lunch! We hadn’t really hung out until Sakura’s birthday, right?”

Mukuro looks relieved. She cracks a smile and squeezes Hiro’s hand before releasing it, and bids him a good night. She flashes another grin to Leon as she walks past him— genuine joy playing across her face. It pisses him off. For what reason, he doesn’t know. He’s not thinking about it, anyway.

He’s absolutely thinking about it, though. Hiro’s in a good mood on their walk back. He’s always been good at carrying conversation, even if the other party isn’t as enthusiastic as he is, so he’s talking a semi-unresponsive Leon’s ear off. Anyone is worth Hiro’s time, which kind of becomes a problem when he starts chatting with flyer distributors on the street, but Leon doubts Hiro will ever  _ stop _ involving himself with everyone he can. He’s just that kind of guy. He’s also the type of guy to get excited about being… asked out. Like, yelling-about-it-excited. They both were. But Hiro isn’t particularly excited, from what he can tell. He doesn’t even mention what Leon overheard. Hiro probably doesn’t even know that Leon did overhear.

The baseball player’s always had a slight jealousy problem. When he, Mondo, Chihiro and Naegi had started talking to other students, Leon found himself becoming jealous of those who had earned friendship with his companions. He had something against Kirigiri for the first few months he knew her, because Naegi had been hanging out with her a lot more, leaving (slightly) less time for their original group. Leon was the first to admit it was a little irrational, but he’d always been like this (though it might’ve gotten worse since that whole incident with Junko and Maizono). 

The rest of their walk is pretty quiet, and they both turn in for the night almost immediately. 

“G’night, dude,” Hiro whispers. “Thanks for comin’ with to the show.”

Leon huffs. “”Night, Hiro.”


	9. Food for Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiro and Mukuro's date, with interjections from our dearest Mr. Kuwata.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some angst as a treat and then some domestic stuff as more treats

Leon’s still fast asleep when Hiro leaves for lunch nearing noon. The clairvoyant was supposed to meet Mukuro at a trendy little sandwich shop deeper in the city, which she had informed him of that morning. He takes the subway, only half paying attention to the psychology lecture he’s playing through his earbuds.

Hiro finds the shop after a little searching. It’s cute, for sure, with a striped blue-and-white awning and wide picture windows. The afternoon is a little overcast, but pleasant in temperature, and Mukuro waves Hiro over when she spots him. She’s got on this cute overall dress— light denim, that falls a little past her knees, and a lace-collared blouse.

Hiro taps the intricately sewn collar of the dark-haired girl’s shirt.

“I think Chihiro-chan has this.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah! It’s nice,” Hiro murmurs, squinting at the pattern. It’s flowers or something. “Uh, what kinda food does this place have?”

Mukuro answers by dragging him by the wrist into the restaurant.

Leon wakes to an empty apartment, a pounding headache, and a neglected stack of homework. He elects to only think about the headache, pouring himself a glass of water and chugging it way too fast leaning over the sink. 

He decides his excuse for the prior night’s behavior is that he was tired. It had been a long day of work and class, and as fun as the concert was, it might not have been the wisest idea to go. He was tired, that was all. He wasn’t going to let his jealousy get the better of him or something, he should be perfectly fine supporting Hiro’s pursuits. After all, Hiro had wholeheartedly supported his interest in Maizono those years ago. Leon should be returning the favor… so why was he talking himself through it as though he needed convincing? 

The sandwiches look incredible. Hiro watches as the girl behind the counter stacks the thick bread high with toppings before wrapping it neatly in patterned paper. Mukuro insists on paying, for which Hiro (known for his stinginess) thanks her. They sit at a small wire table outside, autumn breeze catching Mukuro’s sable hair and scattering crisp, jonquil-yellow leaves about the street. The bread of the sandwich has a pleasant softness under its toasted crust, and the ingredients— layers of avocado, soft-boiled egg, watercress, turkey, and others— are rich and filling. Mukuro stays pretty quiet until she finishes her meal, but she looks  _ incredibly _ happy. Her smile is contagious, and Hiro laughs as she takes another ravenous bite.

“Did you like it?” Mukuro asks when they’re both done.

Hiro nods, taking a sip of water from his cup. “They were super good, Muku. Thanks for payin’ and all. This was super nice of you.”

They grin at each other.

Hiro was probably having a blast. Leon lets out a frustrated growl, throwing down his pen and notebook for something like the tenth time that afternoon. He couldn’t focus. Why did he feel fuckin’  _ nervous _ ? He practically  _ nauseated _ , and he wasn’t even the one on the damn date. They were getting sandwiches, right? From some trendy new place downtown. Hiro and Mukuro would be cute. She was kinda edgy-lookin’, wearing black and white and blue all the time. He wore some Boho-ass shit sometimes. Unlikely couple, but they’d.. they’d look nice together. Holding hands, or like… kissing. Right? Leon stares at the formulas on the lined paper harder, and they melt together.

Hiro and Mukuro walk, arms linked, to the subway station, where they stand to wait for their train back. Mukuro’s head rests softly against Hiro’s shoulder, her eyes closed and a small smile on her lips. The clairvoyant looks around to see a few passerby glancing at them.

Hiro breathes out a laugh, tilting his head to speak to the girl. “Heh, these people probably think we’re a couple, huh?”

Mukuro tenses a bit, and says nothing. The train pulls in and they board, and the freckled girl settles in her seat, still resting her head on the clairvoyant. Silence hangs in the air of the near-empty car as the train pulls away, and Hiro stares scrutinizingly at the point where he and Mukuro’s knees touch. It finally clicks.

“Hey, Muku-chi?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Was this… uh, a date?” 

Mukuro freezes a bit. “Um… I… I kind of wanted it to be, yeah?“ 

Hiro leans into her more, and she smiles up at him weakly. “I feel like I might’ve missed some cues,” Hiro murmurs. “‘Cuz I had no idea, which isn’t your fault at all—” 

Mukuro cuts him off, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “If you’re trying to let me down easy, it’s okay. I get it.”

“I’m not trying to let you down, per se— I mean, I’m super honored you’re into me, but like… I dunno. I dunno what I’m feelin’.”

“It’s okay, Hiro.”

She looks tired. He can only respond by wrapping his arms around her tightly, nearly pulling her into his lap. “I’m sorry, Muku-chi. I care aboutcha so much, I dunno what to do.”

She squeezes him back, and he can smell her lilac perfume. Her voice is muffled as she speaks, face buried in the mustard cable-knit collar of his sweater.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to date me, really. Just… just know I’m here. For you.”

Hiro sniffs tearfully. “Here for you too, Mukuro.”

Hiro brings a cloud of floral perfume and fresh outdoor air into the apartment with him.

Leon looks at him from his lazy position on the floor, setting down his can of soda.

“Hey, Leo-chi! Where’d you get the drink?”

“Your fridge.”

“Ah. When did we get those?”

Leon shrugs, and Hiro gives him a smile nonetheless. He looks pretty happy.

“How was your date?” Leon asks, and his voice  _ bites _ more than he intended.

“Funny you should ask,” Hiro laughs as he hangs up his jacket, “I had no idea that it  _ was _ one.” 

The ginger’s head snaps back up to stare at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open in shock. “No fucking way.”

“Yes way, man. It didn’t even click ‘till we were on our way back.”

“No fucking way,” Leon repeats, rising to his feet. “No  _ fucking way. _ ”

Hiro snorts. “It’s not  _ that  _ ridiculous, man. Mukuro’s mysterious ‘n stuff.”

“Not so mysterious that you— whatever. Whatever. Just tell me about it.”

Leon’s stomach feels better. He lets his eyes etch lines into Hiro as he watches him talk. Hiro’s arms are just slightly muscled— around the shoulders especially. His thin, tan hands, with long and deft fingers, tug at the cuffs of his sweater absently. His nails are a bit jagged from his habit of biting them. The baseball player never really found himself looking at his friends like this much. Hiro is nice-looking— jaw strong and sharp, his stubble contouring it nicely. Maybe Leon’s other friends were just as… striking… as Hiro is. His light brown eyes are bronze in the golden-hour-lighting. He has nice, full lips. Nice, full lips that tease a grin onto Leon’s face whenever they break into one. Lips that are currently forming a smug, toothy smirk as Hiro stands and retreats to the kitchen.

Leon picks himself up to follow, walking up behind him and resting his forehead on the taller man’s back.

“Oi, whatcha doin’ back there?”

“Nu’n,” the ginger mumbles, “Skinship between bros, right?”

Hiro cackles, jostling Leon a bit. “Yeah, man. Skinship. ‘S important, I’m tellin’ you.”

“‘M not doubting you, dude… doin’ what ya asked for, if anything.”

“Hm?”

“Uh… t… touch. Y’know. You asked.”

Leon can practically feel Hiro smile. “Ah, yeah. Come over here so I don’t elbow you in the guts while I pour this water.”

Leon steps to his friend’s side, watching him pour a hot kettle of water into a mug. The water turns a pale pink-red, and the clairvoyant stirs in a spoonful of honey.

“Hibiscus. Lotsa antioxidants. You want some?”

“I see... Sure, yeah. Thanks— “

Leon reaches to get another cup from the cabinet, but Hiro just hands him the one he’s just poured.

“Isn’t this yours?”

“C’mon, dumbass. Take your drink ‘n then give it back.”

“Ah,” he murmurs, bringing the mug to his lips and taking a (generous) sip before handing it back. Hiro takes it and drains about half the cup in one gulp.

“Dude, I drank from that side.”

“Okay. Won’t kill me.”

“Bro. Germs?”

“Whatever, man,” Hiro says into the cup, waving his hand. “It don’t bother me. ‘Sides, it was just a sip, we’re not like, sharing an ice cream cone or anything.”

Leon exhales a laugh. “That where you draw the line?”

“For sharin’ things with you, bro? Dude, we’ve smoked the same joint. It kinda stopped gettin’ weird for me after that.”

Leon nods. “Fair enough.”

“What, you all worked up about some  _ indirect kiss _ shit?” Hiro snorts, downing the rest of his tea and setting the cup in the sink.

Leon feels a bit warm.


	10. Rolling Fog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a dream sequence, some internal monologues. Fun all around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the gap in updates, my town lost power and i was unable to write until now but!! we are back on schedule baybee. thank u all for ur support, comments and stuff mean sososo much 2 me :,)

Leon waves smoke out of his face, squinting to see through the cloud. When it clears enough, he’s standing face-to-face with Hiro, who happens to be looking down at him much more than he usually does. The clairvoyant has a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, which he looks over, uncharacteristically pompous, at the redhead before him. Leon takes in his surroundings quickly, dizzying himself a bit— but be it for the floral smoke or the wild turning of his head he can’t tell. 

The grass below him brushes his knees, and white wildflowers peek out of the green. In front of him is an incredibly large mushroom— red-capped and everything, which his good friend is lying across. Hiro looks down at him again and brings the gold pipe that he holds lazily to his lips. He breathes the sweet smoke out without averting his haughty gaze, enveloping Leon in a warm cloud once more.

“Hey, Leochi,” this snobby Hiro murmurs, “mind if I ask ya some questions?”

Leon raises an eyebrow. “Uh, sure. Whatever, man.”

“Who are you?”

“Huh?”

“Well don’t go thinkin’ about it too much,” Hiro croons, hazily staring him down. “It’s only a question. Just tell me, Leochi. Who are you?”

Leon blinks indignantly, avoiding the stare. “I’m Leon Kuwata, Hiro. Y’know this.”

Hiro hums pleasantly, blowing rings of smoke into the air just above Leon’s head. “I do know it, yeah. I jus’ think that maybe… I don’t know  _ all _ of Leon Kuwata anymore, hm?”

“The fuck does that mean?”

Hiro leans forward from his mushroom, and Leon can see butterfly wings begin to sprout from his back.

“Think about it, Leochi,” he muses, reaching a slender hand out. 

Hiro’s fingertips graze the redhead’s jaw before resting under his chin, lifting the other’s gaze to meet his. They are… very close now. Leon can taste the smoke curling from between Hiro’s lips.

“Are you really tellin’ me everything still?”

Leon jolts awake.

Leon goes about his morning foggily, a bit caught up in remembering the night’s dream. He hadn’t been that close to someone in a while— and in a dream? It was so  _ real _ , and yet… it had to be Hiro, of all people. That ounce of closeness was sticking to him too much. He wasn’t… uncomfortable, per se, just… confused. 

Hiro’s awake and bustling around the apartment, though. He bids him a good morning with a smile as he picks laundry up off the floor, rushing from room to room. 

_ “Are you really tellin’ me everything still?” _

Leon furrows his brow and gets up off the couch.

“Hey, Hiro?”

The taller man stops mid-step and turns to face him. A sock falls from the pile of clothes in his arms.

“You seen Alice in Wonderland?”

Hiro chuckles. “Yeah, man. Why do you ask?”

Leon shakes his head. “I dunno, I had the weirdest dream. There’s that tripped-out caterpillar or whatever, yeah? You were… him. I think.”

Hiro snorts, picking the fallen sock back up. “Did caterpillar me get all philosophical and weird on ya?”

“Yeah, kinda. Talking about some like... “

Hiro raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“I dunno.” he sighs finally. “Weird shit.”

The clairvoyant seems satisfied enough with the answer, and continues his chores, leaving the other to stew in his thoughts.

The day goes smoothly enough— Leon attends his classes as usual and returns to Hiro’s apartment, which he supposes is kind of  _ his _ apartment now, despite the fact that he’d never pitched in for rent or the like. He’s felt weird since he got kicked out. It was nice not to have to put up with Junko most nights. He didn’t miss her tyranny at all. He did, however, feel strange being around Hiro so much. They were close, but Leon felt like maybe he was getting too comfortable. He was  _ staring _ at Hiro sometimes… that was too much. You’re not supposed to think about the fuckin’  _ curvature of your best friend’s face _ , for God’s sake. Maybe he needed a little break or something, to go stay with another friend until he could get his own place. The thought was unsettling, though. Having to live alone was something he’d literally never done. He’d roomed with Naegi for a while before moving in with Junko, and now he’s with Hiro, so being all by himself was kind of a foreign concept. How would he fare, being alone all the time? He didn’t know for sure, but doubted it would be good. 

After all, if the only thing making him feel weird was that he’d get distracted by Hiro doing nothing in particular, that was something he’d have to sort out on his own. His staring problem was nobody’s issue but his own. He probably just needed to get out more.

Hiro liked having Leon over all the time. The baseball player would get all excited when he’d come home, and dump all the day’s events on Hiro without hesitation. It was nice that he trusted him like that, and the rhythm they had fallen into made life seem just a bit easier. Hiro almost felt prideful of it— he’d probably start to boast about their friendly bond if he wasn’t careful. 

Hiro prides himself in being perceptive. As a fortune-teller, you have to be paying attention to someone’s every move in order to really pin them. He could tell when someone was struggling with something, and generally with what, just based on things they let slip in conversation. He was unfortunately less good at this when it came to more personal relationships. He never really considered his self-esteem to be low at all, but also generally never considered himself to be a good bachelor. It came as a surprise when he realized Mukuro was  _ asking him out _ . She took his rejection well, anyway, right? That really wasn’t his biggest concern anymore, though. Despite how shocking Mukuro’s confession had been, he had other things on his mind. He was still completely stumped on what was making Leon, his closest friend, so damn spacey.

Leon was usually hyper-attentive to the point of a fragile ego, (which was harsh to think, but definitely true) so of course questions rose when he began to phase out of conversations. It would be endearing if not for the worry it struck the clairvoyant with. It worried him even more that Leon only really… got that distracted look when the two of them were talking. He was fine when chatting to the others after Ibuki’s concert. Hiro just hoped Leon would feel better, if anything was hurting him. And he hoped he could help.

Hiro comes home from work a bit late that night carrying grocery bags, and the two catch each other at the door. 

“Second time this’s happened, huh?” the clairvoyant laughs as he fishes out his keys. “Glad you’re not fast asleep on the ground this time, though.”

Leon returns his grin, and Hiro snorts.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just… “ he pauses, looking back to the redhead. “I’m glad you’re here.”

With the way Hiro’s bent to fumble with the lock, they’re the same height— eye to eye. Leon seems to be thinking hard about something. They stand there for a beat before the redhead breathes another laugh, delivering an appreciative pat to the other man’s shoulder.

“What’s all this?” Leon asks, gesturing to the bags Hiro was carrying, which now sit on the floor of the main room. He barely waits for a response before inspecting the contents. 

“Ibuki wouldn’t stop talking about the  _ nabemono  _ she and Chiaki had over the weekend, and I was craving it by the time I left,” the clairvoyant calls from the kitchen. “We have a hot plate, so I figured I’d just make it.”

Leon hauls the bags into the kitchen as Hiro sets up, and they chat as they wash veggies and press tofu. Leon fishes out a package of button mushrooms and stares at them before pouring them into a colander to rinse.

The food’s good. They eat quietly, Hiro’s mind filled with thoughts of  _ dashi _ broth and fatty beef, and Leon’s with fragrant cigar smoke and butterfly wings.


	11. Only Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late-night chat :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! it's been, like, a month since i last updated,,, sorry for the Lie about being back on schedule,, anyway this is an underwhelmingly short chapter but ive been suffering over this for, guess what, a month bc i got So Stuck lmfao,, i will do my best to be better sjhfjkshdfjhsd,, pls enjoy

Hiro goes to bed early, leaving Leon to sit in the dark and occupy himself with his phone. The distraction works poorly, and his mind and eyes wander despite his best efforts. The room is dark save for the blue light of his phone, and the blinds have been drawn shut, leaving him without the city glow to stare into. He glances across the room, where Hiro’s tan shoulders rise and fall slightly under his sheets, his back turned toward the other. He looks peaceful.

It catches the redhead a bit off-guard when Hiro suddenly shifts, rolling onto his other side. His face, now illuminated dimly by the glow of Leon’s phone, breaks into a tired smile.

“Why’re you still up, man?” comes his voice, a bit hoarse.

For some reason, Leon feels like he’s been caught doing something much worse than just being awake.

“Uh— ‘dunno. Just, uh, not tired, I guess.”

Hiro hums in understanding, propping himself up on an elbow. The sheets that were covering him slide down to his waist with the movement, revealing more bronze skin.

The clairvoyant’s gaze is soft as he maintains eye contact, unwavering, yet not imposing.

“Do I have something on my face?” Leon whispers, only half-joking.

Hiro huffs out a laugh. “No,” he says, fiddling with the hem of his pillowcase, “I dunno, I’m zonin’ out or somethin’. Feels like I’m still asleep.”

“I feel like you’re analyzing me.”

“Hm, maybe. You jus’ seem a little out of it still. I just think about you, man.”

Leon can’t help but sputter.

“Don’t go puttin’ it like that.”  
“Why not, dude? I think about you a lot.”

The statement brews for a moment, Hiro’s ten-yard stare beginning to burn into Leon.

As if to escape it, the redhead throws the blanket off of himself and scampers to the side of the clairvoyant’s bed, leaning over the edge. Hiro looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“Scoot over,” Leon huffs, probably a little too gruffly. 

Hiro replies with another surprised look, and shuffles to the side to make room for his friend to climb in. Their legs touch, and Leon can see Hiro tense for a moment before looking back at him, eyes obviously wandering. The taller of the two smiles again, flopping onto his back to stare up at the ceiling. 

“What’re you grinning about?” Leon mutters.

“Nothin’, you were just so aggressive about it,” Hiro says through his soft laughs, “I thought it was kinda funny.”

This earns a gentle jab of the elbow from Leon. The two lay there in silence for a while before Hiro pipes up again.

“Y’know, I have to take some psychology courses for my major— “  
“Oh, so you _were_ analyzing me— “

“No, no, I’m just saying… I have to take these classes and listen to all these lectures about how humans work. And it’s kind of cool, honestly. But like, last week I had to listen to this talk about human touch.”

Leon nods, feeling almost embarrassed.

“There’s this chemical in our brains called, like… oxytocin? Yeah. And it’s released when we feel positive human touch… it’s super good, ‘cuz it helps with, like, building relationships and easing stress and even forming memories. I just thought that was cool. Everyone needs to do stuff like that sometimes.”

“Stuff like what?”

“Y’know, like…” 

Hiro’s brow furrows in thought for a moment. He glances over to Leon for a second before sliding his hand from its resting position on his stomach down to catch the redhead’s wrist— not quite holding it, but providing a warm touch nonetheless.

“I dunno. Like this?”

Leon kind of just stares at the slender fingers grazing him.

His voice almost cracks as he speaks.

“You’re okay with people…? Y’know… ” he mutters, gesturing to Hiro’s hand.

“Yeah, I’m super okay with it. I lean on people ‘n stuff all the time, I kinda... “

He pauses.  
“I kinda like it when people can have that physical bond.”

The clairvoyant cringes at his own words.

“That sounded so fuckin’ weird,”

“No, I get it.”

The silence returns. It’s not uncomfortable, but whatever the conversation is, it’s not exactly over, and Leon feels like he should say something. He doesn’t, though, and instead chooses (consciously or not, he doesn’t know) to place his hand over Hiro’s, which still occupies his right wrist. Hiro murmurs something unintelligible and rolls to face the redhead, eyes closed.

“G’night, Leochi.”

“Night, Hiro.”

Leon wakes with his head on the clairvoyant’s chest.


	12. I Bet You Take Me For a Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from baseball by Hippo Campus, which I think is THE HiroLeon song.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry abt how heavy in dialogue this one is lol.
> 
> end notes just have a disclaimer abt this fic but its literally not important

When Leon blearily opens his eyes, white morning light streaming through the blinds, he freezes at the feeling of warm skin beneath him. Rising tentatively, he takes in the sight before him.

Hiro is still fast asleep on the linen sheets, lips parted and breathing softly. The cracks in the blinds cast stripes of light across his chest and face, uncovering faint freckles that Leon had never seen before. The clairvoyant’s head lolls slightly to one side, shyly showing off his chiseled jaw and collar. 

He looks ethereal. Golden. 

Leon feels like he’s on fire. He attempts, in a near-panic, to escape the bed without waking the man in front of him (or was he under him?), before realizing that one of his legs is pinned under Hiro’s— almost hooked in.

The redhead shifts as slowly as possible in an attempt to slide himself free, but to no avail. He moves a little too harshly, and suddenly is looking a very groggy Hiro directly in the eyes; Hiro, who looks up and cracks a smile at him, reaching an arm up to ruffle the shorter man’s tiger-orange hair.

The clairvoyant can barely murmur “Good morning” before Leon has launched himself from the bed and across the apartment, locking himself into the bathroom.

Hiro waking up to a bright pink-flushed Leon leaning over him was surprising, to say the least, but not something he was angry about or anything. Once the baseball player practically catapults himself away, Hiro is simply left to sit, wait, and ponder what happened.

He thinks for a while, attempting to draw conclusions, but fails to find any rationality through the morning fog. He chooses to attempt to wait until Leon returns.

Leon sits on the bathroom floor, watching the clock on the wall. If he stayed in here long enough, Hiro would leave for work or something and then he could leave the apartment and not come back for a while, right? He could just… make his escape. He feels nauseated… lightheaded, too. He stands slowly, walking over to the sink to scowl at himself in the mirror. There’s a little red patch on his right cheek— probably there from prolonged contact with… with Hiro. Because he woke up laying on Hiro.

He holds a hand to the mark, staring himself down. He’s got some eyeliner residue goin’ on, and his hair is all kinds of messed up, falling loosely in his face from the lack of product in it. Probably wasn’t helped by the fact what Hiro had messed it up too. How the fuck did Hiro look at him so… so happily when he had woken up? The expression he had was almost tender, and his first instinct to reach out and touch him? Leon’s stomach flips at the thought. 

He’s quickly snapped out of his deliberation by a tentative knock at the door, followed by a worried call of his name.

“You okay in there, Leochi?”

“Uh— “ Leon croaks, scrambling to the door. “Y-yeah! I’m fine!”

“Did you eat something weird? Is your stomach okay?”

“I- Huh? I didn’t eat anything except dinner from last night!”

“Oh no, did you get sick from it? I’m so sorr— “

“I’M NOT SICK!” Leon growls, hauling the door open, nearly grazing Hiro, who must have been pressed against it. “I’m  _ fine! _ ”

Hiro raises his hands in joking defense. “You got it, Kuwata. Glad I didn’t give ‘ya food poisoning.”

“I’ve got work today,” Hiro mentions as they eat their breakfasts, “So you’ve got the place to yourself again.”

Across from him, Leon (still a bit red in the face) nods, shoveling rice into his mouth.

“That’s okay, right? I’ll be back before dark.”

Leon nods again. 

“Okay!” the clairvoyant announces, standing up from the table and stretching his arms above his head. Leon averts his eyes as Hiro’s t-shirt rides up his midriff.

A few minutes later, Hiro’s hopping into his jeans and slinging his leather satchel over his shoulder. Leon scuttles out of the kitchen just as the taller man is waving goodbye.

“W-wait!”

Hiro stops, key in hand. “Hm?”

“Uh, it looks like it’s gonna be cold out.” He gestures weakly to the slightly fogged window. “You should take… a coat, or something.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Hiro murmurs, snagging his jacket off the rack. “Thanks for havin’ my back, dude.” He smiles and waves again, shimmying out the door. “Ciao!”

The latch clicks shut. 

He felt weird. Ever since he woke up— maybe even before that, as early as the night before. Why had he wanted to escape so badly that morning? When he saw Hiro sleeping, did he feel as if he had intruded? That had to be the reason. 

He needed to say something about it. Hiro had made a point of it, after all— that he wanted Leon to be more open. Well, dream-caterpillar Hiro had, but  _ real _ Hiro must feel that way too, right? Dreams always meant something. Real Hiro must be looking for connection again, too, then. Why else would he have told Leon all of that stuff about… touch? 

Leon sinks onto the sofa, scrubbing at his face with his hands. He wondered if that patch of red on his cheek was still there. Maybe Hiro had seen it. Did Hiro even know? Or was this— this event that he was  _ clearly _ blowing out of proportion, a secret that he had to keep to himself? Why did he even have to keep it?

Hiro spies Fukawa on the subway platform. He feels a little under-dressed in his tee and jeans next to her flowing black dress and long wool coat, the lapel of which she fiddles with as they wait.

“Hey, Tokoko,” Hiro murmurs, nudging her gently, “How’s your Komaru-chan?”

“Ah, you remembered this time. She’s alright. Busy with classes. Why’re you so interested all of a sudden?”

“Dunno,” he admits. “Maybe I just feel like getting to know you a bit more. Your relationship is pretty important to you, I can imagine.”

Toko averts her gaze, embarrassed. 

“I mean, yeah. But it’s not like I can give you relationship advice or anything weird like that. I dunno if you’ve ever even had a girlfriend.”

“I almost did pretty recently,” he chuckles. “But, uh, no. My experience is pretty minimal for a guy in his last year of college.”

There’s a beat before Toko speaks again. “Doesn’t really matter, though. Um. I’m sure… you’ll find someone, Hagakure.”

“You don’t have to say stuff like that out of pity.”

“Uh— I’m not.”  
“Mhm.”

“Really. If Omaru taught me anything, it’s optimism. Give it time, or whatever.”

“Thanks, Tokoko.” he smiles, following her into a train car as it arrives. “I’m not really in a rush anyway.”

Ibuki greets Hiro from the back room with a shout, followed by a concerning crashing noise. She assures him she’s okay, and emerges seconds later with a large stack of records, which he begins to sift through. 

“Hey, these are surprisingly not broken. What was that noise about, then?”

“The records are fine, Hiro-senpai! It was just me that fell.”

“Ah.” Hiro looks down to her scuffed knees. “I see.”

They sort the records together for a while, silent save for Ibuki’s humming along to the music from the store speakers.

“Hey, Ibuki? Weird question.”

“Whassup!”

“Do you hold hands and stuff with your girl friends?”

“Girlfriends or girl friends?”

“Friends who are girls.”

“Oh, okay. ‘Cuz I have had both. Yeah, girls hold hands and cuddle and stuff sometimes. More than guys do, I’m guessin’.”

Hiro breathes out a laugh. “You’re guessin’ right.”

“When Chiaki and I go to the store together we hold hands. My friend Sonia and I hold hands. I still cuddle my ex-girlfriend sometimes ‘cuz we’re still friends. But I’m kinda a touchy person, y’know? I hold hands with my guy friends, too.”

Hiro nods pensively, staring down the tracklist of a record.

“Why do you ask, though, senpai?”

He shakes his head. “I dunno. I mean, I’m comfortable with that kind of stuff, too. I was just wonderin’ how different it was for you, I guess.”

It turned out Leon was right about the night cooling off— It seems like this autumn is going to be a cold one. As Ibuki and Hiro close the shop, the sun recedes behind the buildings, leaving only the soft glow of the streetlamps to accompany the blue-grey dusk; frosty colors fitting for the temperature. They step out into the crisp air, and Ibuki quickly buttons her (pink, rabbit-eared) jacket to her chin, rattling on about a prickly customer she had dealt with. 

The junior continues her monologue as they walk, and for once, Hiro feels too out of it to join in. It’s almost a weighted feeling— that of a strange guilt. The stress feels acrid in his throat, but after all, it had been rising from the pits of his stomach since that morning. He must have done something wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey quick author's note, as i'm assuming you're reading this due to concern.  
> this work takes place in a everyone lives/nobody dies!au as well as a modern!au, where characters who are already adults in canon have and will continue to age. i am not using this au as an opportunity to sexualize minors (such as the drv3 cast, depending on your perception of the weird ambiguity of that game), i'm using it as a tool to expand on a relationship that would not happen in the trigger happy havoc canon. any sexual content that could possibly occur within this fic is between adult characters who were adults in canon and adults in this au. thx :)


	13. Tiger's Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bro time :)

Hiro returns to the sound of the shower running that night. The growl of drums and rock bass rumbles from the bathroom, and he can hear faint singing along to the music. The clairvoyant perches on the edge of his bed after removing his coat and shoes, checking notifications, before he stands once more and moves to the kitchen, crouching in front of the refrigerator. It’s rather empty, and Hiro frowns as the interior lights flicker against nothing more than a few cans, miscellaneous produce and mysterious jars of condiments— not nearly an array fit to be made into dinner. 

The water shuts off almost on cue, and he can hear faint humming as Leon turns off the music, followed by a yelp and a shockingly loud symphony of clatters of which Hiro can only assume is the sound of every bottle in the shower hitting the floor. His suspicion is confirmed when Leon lets out a string of curses and begins to violently place the fallen objects where they came from. A few moments later, he steps out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, and looks across the room and into the kitchen, spotting his friend, and greets him with yet another yelp, nearly jumping back into the room from which he came. Hiro grins at him as he rises from his squat. 

“Hi,” Leon squeaks, pulling his towel further up his torso, “Didn’t know you were back.”

“Just got here a few minutes ago, man, no worries.”

The redhead tosses his phone (which must have been streaming the music) onto the nearby couch.

Hiro looks tired, Leon notices. The smile that plays across his face is strained, and his usually bright eyes seem a little dim, especially with the dark circles that seem to have appeared under them. 

“Uh,” Leon starts, voice dropping to a near-whisper as Hiro looks back at him to listen, “Are you okay?”

Hiro breathes out a laugh, scratching at the stubble on his chin.

“Leo-chi, did I say something to you? Something that made you uncomfortable, or something?”

Leon blinks, a bit stunned.

“N- no?”

“Ah, thank God. I just… you seem to be a little upset recently, and I didn’t know if it was ‘cuz of Junko or you were stressed about classes or if _I_ had done something you didn’t like.” He pauses, messing with the thin gold chain under the collar of his shirt. “I never wanna make you upset, dude. It’s like… the last thing I’d want, actually.”

“You… you didn’t do anything, man,” Leon sighs, wiping a drop of water from his arm. “Anythin’ that I’m stressed about is like… internal conflict. You’ve literally never upset me.”

“Honest? You’d tell me if I was doin’ anything bad, right?”

“Honest, yeah. I would tell you.”

Hiro lets out a long-awaited breath of relief, scrubbing at his face with his palms. “That shit was tearin’ me up, man. I thought I had like, said some seriously dumb stuff to you.”

They look at each other for a beat, and Leon can feel his cheeks going a bit pink.

“It was tearin’ you up?”

“Uh, yeah. Um… “

The redhead raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“C- can you get dressed? I keep looking at the freckles on your boobs.”

Leon chokes, the hand not holding up his towel flying to cover his chest. 

“ _Don’t CALL MY PECS THAT!_ ”

Once Leon is wearing a sufficient amount of clothes, the two begin to contemplate dinner.

“The fridge is a barren wasteland, Leo-chi!”, Hiro insists, so they cave and decide to go for a quick shopping trip. It’s completely dark out now, and Leon stares out onto the dimly-lit street as he puts on his jacket, which Hiro (despite the redhead’s protests) insists on zipping all the way up to his chin.

They leave the apartment and walk aimlessly before opting for a small convenience store a few blocks away, the only sound being the jingling of the keys in Hiro’s pocket. The streetlamps light the two from above, casting odd shadows over Hiro’s face. He has rather hooded eyes, Leon notices, and when the taller of the two catches him looking, Hiro bumps him playfully with his shoulder. The redhead snickers, and they continue their walk. 

Just a beat later, Leon absently catches Hiro’s hand in his own, locking their pinkies together. Hiro’s head jerks to look at him, then down to their hands, then back down the street, a lazy smile creeping onto his face as he shifts to hold Leon’s hand firmly. Leon’s heart jumps to his throat, and he quickly swallows it back down.

The store clerk doesn’t look up from her magazine as she greets them, nor does she make much eye contact when she rings up their purchases, but after all, it’s late, so nobody can blame her. Hiro casually grabs Leon’s hand again when they leave, only letting go to open the door when upon their return.

“Is your, uh, ‘oxatoxin’ level better, dude?” the redhead half-jokes, waiting for his friend to finish wrestling the key out of the lock.

Hiro _giggles_ as he shoulders the door open. “Oxytocin? And yeah, I think so. Stress levels have plummeted.”

“That’s good.”

“All thanks to your sneaky hand-holding. That’s dork behavior.”

“Bro, it was for your own good and you know it. Now help me eat these onigiri.”

He does.

They end up laying on Hiro’s bed, passing a joint between them in comfortable silence before Leon sighs. 

“Man,” he murmurs, smoke curling from his mouth, “I wish I had a girlfriend so bad.”

“Word.”

“A smokin’ hot girlfriend.”

“Mhm.”

“Like, everyone we know is cuffed at this point. Fuckin’ blows that I’m still single.”

Hiro takes the blunt being offered to him, his fingers lightly brushing Leon’s. “Dude, it’s dumb as hell that you haven’t linked with someone yet.”

“God, right? Like… Sakura and Aoi are together… fuckin’ Mondo and Taka, obviously. Naegi scored Kirigiri. Some of my underclassman friends too— even _Toko_ has a girlfriend. Why can’t I get one if Toko of all people can?”

“It sucks.”

“Would be easier to just date dudes at this point. Chicks hate me.”

“That’s not true, Leo-chi.”

“It’s so true.”

Leon stares dazedly at the ceiling, curling a lock of hair through his fingers. His eyes are hooded and a little red from the smoke, and his lips are parted just slightly. Hiro just watches him think. The dim light of the room is comforting, and between the heat radiating from the redhead and the herbal warmth in his lungs, Hiro feels like he could fall asleep on the spot. He sits up onto his elbows and takes his last drag before the joint fizzles out. He leans to the bedside table to toss the stub into an ashtray. As he’s turned, Leon traces a fingertip (complete with chipped black nail polish) over the thin cotton of Hiro’s tee and down his spine— from the very base of his neck to just above the waistband of his torn jeans.

Hiro glances over his shoulder, a little delayed, with a confused smile tugging at his lips. “Dude, what?”

“I was possessed.” Leon slurs, earning a raised eyebrow from the other. “I saw and I jus’ had to.”

“You saw my spine and had ‘ta touch it.”

“Uh, yeah. Saw it through your shirt. All… bony. You’re bony.”

“ _You’re_ fuckin’ bony.” Hiro retorts weakly, swinging a playful slap towards Leon’s shoulder.

“Am not!” the redhead growls, maybe a little too aggressively. To prove his point, he tugs the hem of his grey shirt up to his collar, revealing toned abs and a nicely-sculpted chest, complete with a familiar smattering of freckles. Hiro’s eyes flick down to the V of his hips for a moment before he drags them back up to Leon’s face— which has been dusted a pleasant pink around his cheeks and ears.

“Fair enough, dude.”

They sit there for a second, Hiro trying too hard to maintain eye contact. His voice almost cracks as he speaks again, kicking himself internally.

“Can I touch ‘em?”

Leon smiles boastfully. “Why yes you may, my lady.”

Hiro really does (lightly) smack him this time. But alas, the abs are a more pressing issue, and he tentatively moves his hand towards them. Leon flexes on contact, which is a weird sensation, but Hiro feels his jaw drop when he delivers a light pat to the other’s stomach— the muscles of which are hard as rock.

“Holy _shit._ ”

“Pretty cool, huh? Absolutely tragic that chicks don’t even dig me even with these bad boys.”

“Bro, if I had abs like that,” Hiro mutters, hovering his hand over his own torso now, “I’d be unstoppable.”

“Hell yeah you would, dude.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the beginning of this chapter was painful but after i got to write abt leon's boob freckles my mood became drastically better


	14. Tell Me Something Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short relationship-building chapter :)

“Tell me about yourself, Senpai.” Ibuki calls across the store to the clairvoyant the next morning. 

Hiro raises his head from the box he’d been sorting. “Whadda ya mean?”

“Let’s start with the basics!” the girl exclaims. “Uh, like… I don’t even know how old you are.”

“Twenty-four,” he says plainly.

Ibuki stops in her tracks, fumbling with the crate in her arms.

“And… Y-you’re still in college?!”

“Got held back in highschool,” Hiro mutters, waving his hand dismissively as he thumbs through the records. “Was jus’ a money situation… part of it was ‘cuz of my old man, ‘n the other part was just bad decisions on my part.”

“I get that,” Ibuki says, nodding pensively. “Is Kuwata-san—“  
“Nah, he got through school just fine. He’s 21.”

Ibuki nods again. “Well, we work at the same place, so I don’t need to ask about your profession… and I know you live in your own apartment… Hm.”

He raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh!” Ibuki gasps, setting down her crate by the till, “What do you do for fun?”

“Ah, yeah. I read tarot and tell fortunes and the like… sometimes I watch Leon play video games, sometimes I play… ”

He can tell she’s itching to ask for a reading. 

“I can do a tarot spread for you sometime, if you’d like— “

The junior squeals and claps. “Yes!!!! Yes, that would be so cool! Thank you, Senpai!!”

He nods, Ibuki’s contagious elation bringing a smile to his face. 

“Of course, dude. This one’ll be on the house. If you want, I can just do the reading after our shift?”

“Are you inviting me to your house?” Ibuki whisper-yells, eyes gleaming.

“Yes,” Hiro laughs, “Yes, I am.”

Their shifts end at roughly the same time— although Hiro does have to stall outside for a bonus fifteen minutes, and when Ibuki comes barreling out of the double-doors, they make their way to the nearest subway station.

Ibuki fiddles with the fraying hem of her oversized tee as they walk, belts and necklaces clattering a rhythm with each of her steps. She starts to talk animatedly about things that have happened to her and her friends, and Hiro learns maybe a little too much about a dude named Hajime than he would have liked to before meeting the poor guy.

When they arrive, Hiro shoulders the door open and lets the junior inside, who politely takes off her shoes and hangs her coat, thanking him for having her.

Both are surprised when an inquisitive Leon pokes his head out of the kitchen. His eyes flick to Ibuki, then to Hiro, back to Ibuki, before landing with a raised eyebrow on his roommate.

“Kuwata-senpai!”

“Mioda? What’s goin’ on here?”

“Hiro-senpai is gonna tell me my future!” Ibuki answers, all smiles.

“Ah,” Leon hums, settling with the other two around the coffee table. “You’re to be guided by the mystic words of Yasuhiro Hagakure as well?”

He flashes a teasing grin at the clairvoyant, and Hiro suddenly feels very warm.

Hiro falters for a moment, but just shakes his head as if to clear it and reaches into his leather crossbody bag to retrieve his favorite tarot deck. He begins to shuffle them, slender fingers working deftly, the gold ring on his left middle finger catching the afternoon light. Leon looks over to Ibuki, who just watches Hiro with rapt fascination. Hiro always looks so serene when he’s reading tarot.

The clairvoyant shuffles until three cards clatter to the table, perfectly face-down as usual. He opens his eyes and flips them over one by one. Leon leans in to look at the art, bumping shoulders with his _kouhai_ as she does the same. The familiar lacquered stained-glass colors wink back at him in the sunbeams streaming through the windows, and Ibuki scowls down at them pensively.

“The Lovers, The Magician, and Hierophant reversed,” Hiro muses, scratching his jaw in thought. “Well, as for The Hierophant… how are you doing with money recently, ‘Buki?”

Ibuki’s jaw drops.

“Bad,” she says plainly.

“Damn,” Leon mutters next to her.

Hiro holds up his hands in defense. “I just ask about what the cards tell me, so no hard feelings.”

“No, it’s right. I’m kinda living paycheck-to-paycheck right now, so it’s been a little hard.”

“That’s pretty spot-on for that card then. I think that situation might hold out a little longer, but it shouldn’t be too bad.” Hiro says, weakly attempting to lift her spirits.

Ibuki waves her hand bashfully. “Hey, I’ll live. Don’t worry about me. What’s the other ones?”

“Lovers are pretty self-explanatory, I think. You in a new relationship or anything?”

The junior nods excitedly, multicolor hair flying. “Yeah! Me ‘n my girlfriend Akane just started dating. I like her a lot.”

Leon hums approvingly. “I’ve met Akane. She’s sweet.”

“So sweet,” Ibuki agrees.

“That’s that, then. And you’ve even got the Kuwata stamp of approval.” Hiro jokes, and Ibuki and Leon high-five. “I think your Hierophant situation might be goin’ a little better than we thought, though.”

He taps the Magician card. “New opportunities. Could be career stuff, could be financial stuff… maybe even love. But I’m gettin’ a feeling it’s closer to a resolution on your current money problem.”

Hope glimmers in the musician’s eyes.

Ibuki stays over for a while, and Leon even breaks out Super Smash Bros so the three of them can play. Ibuki, surprisingly, absolutely decimates the two men with some impressive combo moves as _Bowser Junior_ of all characters. Leon watches as the little dinosaur catapults Lil’ Mac off-screen for something like the tenth time, and sets his controller down with an over-dramatic sigh. Hiro’s Inkling falls from the stage, and the girl sitting between them is crowned winner once more.

When the junior goes home (after giving both Hiro and Leon absolutely _crushing_ hugs), the clairvoyant collapses to his bed with his laptop and notebook. He begins to scrawl out notes in his strikingly neat handwriting, and Leon watches over his shoulder for a moment or two before retreating to the kitchen. 

He emerges a few minutes later with a steaming mug, which he sets down on the bedstand next to his friend.

“I dunno if I made it right, but it’s that tea you had a few days ago.”

Hiro looks up with one of the most genuine smiles Leon thinks he’s ever seen.

“Dude, that’s so kind of you,” the taller man half-whispers. “Thanks.”

He takes the cup from the table and blows into it, then takes a sip.

“‘S perfect, Leo-chi. You’re the best.”

Leon leans forward and perches on the very edge of the mattress, jostling Hiro a bit, who holds a hand over the tea to avoid spilling it. 

There’s a beat of silence before Leon speaks.

“It’s okay that I’m still staying here with you, right?”

Hiro blinks. “Yeah, dude. It’s totally chill. You okay?”

“Wh- yeah, I’m fine, I just, like… I dunno, I didn’t wanna be intruding on your life ‘n shit, man.” Leon sputters. “I feel like a freeloader.”

“Bro, you’re not intruding… I... you’re welcome here whenever. I’m not so much of an asshole to kick my best friend out after… “ 

He waves his hand. “After, y’know. What happened to you. I don’t mind you stayin’ here at all— y’know, I kinda like havin’ someone around. I just feel bad that you’ve gotta sleep on my couch.”

Hiro laughs out that last sentence, maintaining eye contact as he drinks from the mug again. 

“So long as you’re comfortable here, so am I.”

“Tha— “ the redhead starts, before Hiro reaches out and brushes his shoulder a few times.

“Sorry, you had a hair on your shirt and it was bothering me.”

Leon snorts, holding a hand to his temple. “Whatever, dude. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Anythin’ for you, Kuwata.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is actually called "leon and yasuhiro adopt a daughter and her name is ibuki"
> 
> sorry about how short this is can u tell i lost steam on this for like. a month. sighs. updates hopefully back to normal soon, but we'll see. i feel like i say this exact same thing every other chapter lmfao


	15. Turning Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switching to a more Leon-centric POV for a while, maybe? OOoooOooOoo

At around ten, Hiro emerges from the bathroom a bit pink in the cheeks and shoulders. He does a few little hops to pull his sweatpants up around his ankles and closes the door. Leon, who’s sitting hunched over on the bed (probably staring into a social media feed as usual), looks up at him with hesitant eyes, gaze then snapping immediately back down towards his device.

“Whatcha doin’?” Hiro asks, leaning over the seated man to try to catch a glimpse of the screen.

Leon clicks the phone off and stuffs it into his pocket. “Nothing,” he sputters, running a hand through his hair. “Just checkin’... Twitter.”

“Oh, cool. I checked my feed earlier ‘n saw that there was a new Mothman sighting in the ‘States.”

Leon squints up at him doubtfully. “Yeah?”

Hiro just nods, as if that’s all he needs to do to convince the baseball player.

“Cool,” Leon concedes.

There’s a beat, and Hiro kind of just… looks at him.

“Hey, Kuwata?”

“Right here, dude.”

The clairvoyant’s brow twitches upwards a bit, and now his gaze has a _slight_ undertone of concern.

“Y’ know I care aboutcha a lot, right, man?”

Leon feels uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. He looks down to pick at the drawstring of his flannel pants. “Yeah. ‘Care about you too.”

“M’kay. Just ‘cuz, like… you seem down, dude. I know that autumn and winter stuff kinda kicks your ass sometimes on top of like… all the shit you already power through.”

Leon shrugs.

“This is, like, the first time you’re gonna be with someone during it that has your back, Leo-chi. I jus’ wanna let you know that, uh. You can lean on me.”

The redhead leans forward slightly, bumping his forehead against Hiro’s ribs.

“I meant it in more of a figurative sense,” the clairvoyant whispers, “but this also applies.”

There’s another tick of silence. Leon keeps his contact with the other man. He smells perfectly familiar; lavender, cannabis and spiced cologne. That cocktail of fragrances that is starting to smell like home, or something more vague— like safety.

Leon’s arms feel heavy and tired as he lifts them to wrap loosely around Hiro’s waist, forehead still pressed to the smooth skin of the man’s abdomen. He can feel Hiro tense for a split second before relaxing, and the clairvoyant stoops to return the embrace, hiking one knee up to lean into the mattress. They stay like that for a while, Leon breathing a bit shakily.

Hiro wavers and lets go, electing to flop down next to his friend on top of the sheets. Leon looks at him with a drained smile, eyelashes fluttering intermittently with exhaustion.

“You look to be on death’s door, my friend.”

Leon laughs half-heartedly. “Somethin’ about your confession of man-to-man support made me realize how dog-tired I’ve been, dude.”

“Sorry, man.”

“Should be,” Leon teases softly. “Look what you’ve done to me.”

Hiro rights himself and leans over the redhead for a moment, and the shorter man can practically hear the cogs in his brain turning.

“Well,” the fortune-teller mutters, “I was gonna try ‘n haul you to the couch, but we’ve already established that you’re just too much of a hunk of alpha male _meat_ for that to be possible.”

He emphasizes the ‘meat’ with a gentle pat to Leon’s chest. The redhead huffs out a laugh, scrubbing at his faintly bloodshot eyes.

“Dude, it looks like you’ve got absolutely no choice but to roll me off your bed and onto the floor.”

“Nah,” comes the immediate answer. “We’ve shared how many times now, Kuwata? No biggie.” He pats the space next to him. “Bring ‘ya ass.”

Leon does, in fact, bring his ass right under the covers. Hiro leans to switch off the bedside light, plunging the room into a comforting darkness, save for the few splashes of red tail-end car lights from the streets below. Hiro nudges Leon’s thigh with his knee under the covers, inching a touch closer.

“Good night, sweet prince.”

“I’ll suffocate you with your own pillow, Hagakure.”

… 

“Thank you, though.”

“Always, Leo-chi.”

Hiro blinks the sleep out of his eyes nearing eleven the next morning. Looking down, Leon Kuwata himself is barely stirring; flushed, freckled cheek pressed drowsily to the warm, flat plane of the clairvoyant’s chest. He has one toned arm slung up and over Hiro’s shoulder, and a leg hitched up to hook around one of Hiro’s thighs, sun-dappled shoulders rising and falling with his breath. The shorter man emits a shallow groan, somewhere between a yawn and a grumble, and boosts himself up off the sheets with his free arm. 

“Hey,” is all that the clairvoyant can muster.

“H— “ Leon starts, before his gravelly morning voice cracks, making him turn a slightly deeper shade of pink in the face.

“Hi,” he finishes. “Sorry. This… “ 

He gestures vaguely at Hiro’s chest. “… keeps happening.”

Hiro shrugs (as best as he can from his lying-down position) with a sleepy smile, patting Leon’s bicep. “What, wakin’ up with your noggin restin’ on me? No biggie, dude. I don’t care at all, if it matters.”

Before Leon can even respond, Hiro’s scooted himself off the bed and into the kitchen to prepare them both breakfast.

Leon leaves for his class soon after they eat, and the clairvoyant cheerily bids him a good day, half-absorbed in a paper that is being started far too close to its deadline.

The baseball player’s only class of the day is a math class, which totally and utterly bores him to death. It was one of the only math classes he had to take with his focus, and leaving it ‘till his last year was right on brand. 

The class was rather large— closer to a lecture hall than an actual classroom experience, but he’d met a few friends in the months and months before that made it tolerable. Toko, for one, had also cornered herself into avoiding the course until her final year. Despite how brainy Leon perceived her as, her academic strength never quite covered mathematics. So Fukawa, along with deadpan-sarcastic junior Hajime and genius second-year Kirumi-san, became Leon’s crutches in that godforsaken lecture hall. Kirumi was simply more intelligent than most people the redhead knew, save for maybe Kyoko, so she was always someone he could rely on for missed notes. She was just a bit more of a pushover than Toko, after all. Maybe it was the fact that Leon was her senior, or maybe she was just a bit more naturally benevolent. Toko and Leon were close enough that she tolerated him enough that they could put their two numerically illiterate minds together to solve equations, and Hajime would simply lightly bully them from the sidelines despite his own complete lack of knowledge on the subject. The guy failed geometry a handful of times, apparently.

However, the pressing matter that morning was not, for once, the fact that he’d forgotten to study the night before. As he walks, Leon wrestles his phone from the pocket of his track pants and opens it, cupping a hand over the top to cut out the glare of the morning sun.

It’s not that the thought of being physically close with his friends had been weighing on him. He was curious… although even that sounded too sure. Too daring. He just wanted to know if what he was slowly becoming comfortable with was normal. Because he _was_ normal.

Open from the night before sits his Incognito tab, complete with a panicked Google search:

_i dont like when people flirt with my best friend_

The baseball star glowers at the screen and taps the search bar a bit too hard, clearing it, only to pause and type in something else.

_is it normal for two dude friends to cuddle and stuff_

He presses enter.

The results are limited— nothing direct, like he had hoped… just analyses of stranger’s anecdotes, ranging from outright telling the asker they’re, well, gay, and assuring them that it’s chill, and all homies do this.

He gripes about it to himself as he rounds the corner to the lecture hall, throwing the door open with a huff. He makes his way up the stairs and down the hall, but stops as he rounds the corner. Hajime is standing outside the door with a slightly shorter, pink-haired, punk-lookin’ guy. They’re talking indistinctly, and Leon feels uncomfortable intruding. Despite this, he can’t bring himself to look away as Hajime smiles softly and tilts his head down to meet the other guy’s lips. They’re kissing. Leon is watching two dudes kissing, and he can feel himself turning red.

He dashes from his makeshift hiding spot around the corner (barely catching Hajime stare at him, bewildered) and enters the room with a bang, throwing the lecture hall’s door open with much more force than intended. He half-sprints up the room’s stairs towards a very frightened-looking Kirumi and settles in his usual seat, throwing his drawstring bag to the floor.

She looks at him with the most perplexed expression, like she’s about to say something. She even opens her mouth, but just closes it again with an exhale and turns back to her laptop.

Hajime enters a few moments later, immediately spotting Leon in the crowd of students and maintaining half-angry, half-confused eye contact with him as he climbs the steps towards them.

“What the fuck was that, Kuwata?” the brunet hisses as he sits down, jerking a thumb towards the door. “Scared us both shitless.”

Leon waves his hand dismissively. “Man, I just wasn’t prepared to see two dudes _sucking face_ at... “

He looks down to his wrist, finds no watch, and scowls. “Whatever time in the morning it is right now.”

Hajime rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“I didn’t mean it, like, badly, dude,” Leon whispers.

The junior gives him a skeptical side-eye, which the redhead matches.

There’s a few moments of silence, filled only by the shuffling from those around them. 

“What’s it like?”

Hajime’s head whips to look at him. “ _What?_ ”

“ _Kissin’ dudes!_ ” Leon grimaces.

Kirumi stares at the both of them through her bangs, dark eye makeup giving her the look of a frightened, goth raccoon.

“ _I am not talking to you about this in the middle of a lecture, Kuwata._ ”

“ _Why not!_ ”

“ _Are you fucking crazy?_ ”

Leon, retort on the tip of his tongue, freezes as Toko approaches. She sheds her long wool coat and takes her seat between the two men, effectively stopping their argument.

“I feel like I’ve just walked in on something, but I know you both well enough to know it’s not worth my time,” the writer mutters, already tired of them.

Kirumi sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am beyond tempted to do a halloween chapter or one-shot since it's october irl and nearing it in this fic.... hm....


	16. Drowning in Waves of Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realization.jpg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning!! at the end of this chapter there is a panic attack!!!!!! it's written in third person (not second, thank u for the correction lol) but the pacing changes and is meant to mimic the feeling of anxiety! please read with caution if that's something that will affect you!

Leon’s brain rots for the next three hours.

His skull becomes an echoing chamber of thoughts that completely drown out the formulas he’s supposed to be taking notes on. And despite the fact that he’s pushing these thoughts away, he simply cannot fend them off quickly enough.

The thoughts in question are along the lines of the (frankly out-of-line) request he dropped on Hajime.

_“What’s it like?”_

He’d kissed girls… several times. Maizono, for one, who kissed so sweetly, and yet so withdrawn, like she was afraid to press their lips together for more than a few seconds. He’d drunkenly tried to lay one on Aoi in their second year of University, but that just… didn’t count. In fact, the only other kisses he’d received from women were the ones from Junko, where she’d roughly take his jaw in her manicured hand and leave a perfect pink splotch of lipstick on his cheek. Those weren’t nice kisses, though. They were mean, and were always used to emphasize an argument she’d won as she walked away.

Kissing another guy was a foreign concept to Leon, although he had to admit the thought of it wasn’t unpleasant, just… wildly unfamiliar territory. Fuck Hajime and his stupid pink boyfriend for planting this dumbass seed in his head. 

He thinks for a moment about what it’d even be _like_ to kiss a dude, but the person who comes to mind first (when he thinks for a man, at least) is himself. The sudden image of kissing his own lips makes him pull such a disturbed face that Toko nudges him in concern.

Despite the discomfort, his mind poses the question of _those he knew_ in this new, saucy context. Mondo, he decides, is out of the question.

 _He’s probably super aggressive,_ Leon thinks, _and also taken,_ though the biker did seem rather soft in Ishimaru’s presence. This taken-ness, of course, did rule out both the punk and his weirdly strict boyfriend for the role of Experimental Fantasy Daydream Guy.

He’s met with disgust at the thought of even _flirting_ with Byakuya McSnark or Yamada. Naegi, maybe, could be interesting. He tries to picture the brunet for a moment, but just feels uneasy, like he’s intruding. Makoto just had too much of an optimistic innocence to him to be the object of some fantasy. Besides, now that Kirigiri was in the picture… only one guy remains. 

One guy, with curious grey-green eyes and a shitty attempt at a beard. The guy he’s held hands with late at night, the owner of the smooth, warm chest he keeps waking up on. The guy with perfect teeth and a sharp jaw and delicately powerful hands. The guy whose shoulder he’s cried on, the guy who’s taken a cigarette from his lips to hold to Leon’s own— 

Leon covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide.

_Fuck._

_Oh, fuck._

Hiro’s morning goes slightly smoother than his friend’s does.

He finally finishes his godforsaken essay and turns it in, and opens up a new document for his next assignment. He’s just beginning to type when his phone buzzes in the pocket of his sweatshirt, which he takes out and squints at. Maybe he needs glasses.

The screen displays Mondo Oowada’s name proudly, and Hiro picks up with just a little bit of nervousness in his voice.

“Hey boss,”

“Oi, Hagakure. You still got that shitty car of yours?”

“Uh, nope. ‘S back at my mom’s place this year. Got the subway card ‘n shit now. Why?”

“I jus’ don’t wanna be lugging a metric fuckton of groceries on the train.”

Hiro pauses. “Hm. Well, do you need help? I don’t have a car right now but, like, I could still help ‘ya out, dude.”

Mondo hums in affirmation. “Sure,” he grunts. “Send your address.”

The biker promptly hangs up.

Hiro does as he’s told, and Mondo shows up a little later, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand and a look of frustration on his face.

“Yo,” Hiro greets him, shuffling out of the door to meet his classmate. He shoves his keys into the pocket of his jeans. “Where we headed?”

Mondo scowls at the paper.

“Taka needs some shit for dinner, I’m, uh, meetin’ his ‘rents tonight, ‘n he’s making something nice for all of us. Dunno.”

“Damn,” Hiro mutters, patting the biker on the back as they start to walk down the stairs to the street. “Gettin’ Papa Ishimaru’s permission for his son’s hand in marriage?”

He’s joking, but Mondo looks back at him with such a feverish blush on his cheeks that Hiro nearly takes a step back. 

“Shit! No kidding?”

“I was thinkin’ about askin’ Ishimaru-san b’fore he leaves, or somethin’.”

“Goddamn. Best of luck, my man.”

They take the subway to a small grocer’s, and both grab a basket as Mondo inspects his list. They make small talk and peruse the aisles.

“I spilled my guts a little to ‘ya,” Mondo says, examining the extensive choices of light and dark soy sauce. “Have you got anythin’ goin’ on with yourself?”

“Hm?  
“I dunno, man. You’ve gotta have a girlfriend or somethin’ by now, dontcha?” 

Hiro laughs and shakes his head. “Fukawa-chi said the same thing not too long ago, actually. But no, I haven’t… had a girlfriend recently.”

“Didn’t you go out with Ikusaba?”

“Ah— word travels fast. Uh, I unknowingly went on a date with her, yeah.”

“Unknowingly?” Mondo sputters. “How the hell d’ya do that?”

Hiro shrugs, handing him a bottle of cooking wine. “Great question. Leon kinda laughed at me, too.”

Mondo sighs in disbelief. “Unknowingly… oh, yeah. Is Kuwata still at your place?”

“Yep. We’ve kinda become roomies now that Junko’s decided she’s officially done with him.”

“Fuckin’ bitch. Glad he’s got a place now, though. Kid’s been through too much with that sorry excuse of a woman— ‘n you know I don’t usually talk about chicks like that at all, man. Taka just gets on my ass about it even if it’s Enoshima.”

“‘Course.”

“At least Kuwata’s got someone to lean on now.” Mondo mutters as they walk around to the next aisle. “You guys’re pretty tight now, huh?”

Hiro nods, a smile finding its way to his face. “Yeah! Closer by the day. Sometimes we both sleep in my bed if we’re feelin’ down or somethin’. It’s kinda coo— “

The biker’s head snaps around to the clairvoyant at a shocking speed. Mondo’s now gawking at him with an absolutely incredulous look on his face.

“What?” Hiro asks tentatively.

“‘Yer fuckin’ with me, Hagakure.”

“No? Wh— what?”

“Sure. How’s your lil’ sleeping arrangement goin’, then? Tell me more.”

“W- well, there’s these chemicals called oxytocin, and it’s released when you have positive human t— “

Mondo cuts him off. “What kinda motherfucker turns all red in the face talkin’ about some chemicals ‘n shit?” He points at Hiro with a carrot. “What’s goin’ on, huh?”

Hiro raises his non-basket-holding hand up in defense.

Mondo continues gesturing at him with the carrot. “Y’know what I know too well, Hagakure?”

The clairvoyant looks at him expectantly.

“Ask me what!”

“What! What, Oowada?”

“ _Justifications._ ”

Hiro stares blankly.

“”Yer all on about some fucken’ _science and psychology_ and shit. Aoi ‘n Sakura wanted to _defend_ each other. Taka and I were on some shit about a _bond between men—_ you hearin’ yourself, man? Usin’ somethin outside of yerself ta’ try ‘n justify what ya feel?”

Toko leans into Leon’s field of vision, placing a hesitant (and very cold) and on his forearm. 

“Kuwata-kun?”

Leon can’t look at her.  
The dream. The smoke-filled _crackpipe_ dream that he had— and Hiro’s predictions, and the walk to the convenience store, and the way Hiro acted around him those times— times where Leon felt that there was something left to be said. Sharing that cup of tea, sharing a joint in the morning, fucking _crying_ on the other man… 

His mind was going too fast. Way too fast. Toko looks scared. Hajime is looking over at him. Things feel too hot. It’s too hot. This is stupid. He needs to get out. He needs to leave. 

Leon keeps his eyes on the floor as he grabs the items he can see (drawstring bag, cellphone) and slowly stands from his chair, making a beeline up the stairs to the back exit of the room. The back of his neck prickles unpleasantly, and the room smells sour. He chokes on his own breath as he pushes the door open, stumbling out into the hall of the top floor. He dizzily searches for the exit, and hurriedly rushes to the doors that lead out onto the campus green. He finds them quickly enough, and gasps in the autumn air as soon as it hits him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im always worried abt the pacing on this but then i remember i am 16 chapters in
> 
> anyway side note if you make 'gay panic' jokes about this i will hit you with my car i hate turning that phrase into a joke lol


	17. [author update]

this fic is either going to be discontinued or put on hiatus  
sorry


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